


Oh My Luck

by Johnismyloveforever64



Series: The Oh My Luck Series [1]
Category: The Beatles
Genre: Blood, Dentistry, Dentists, Gen, Medical, Medical Examination, Medical Procedures, Needles, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:06:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 28,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2077953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnismyloveforever64/pseuds/Johnismyloveforever64
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George has had tonsillitis on every birthday since he was a kid, and now it's February 25th, and once again, he's sick, but this time the doctors say that he's had enough, and it's time to remove his tonsils. George, along with the rest of the boys, find themselves facing their greatest fears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Night Before

it was February 24th, and as usual George was getting sick. Every year, on the day before his birthday, George caught tonsillitis. Now the boys were on tour, still riding high off of their brief American tour, and George already had a sore throat.

“I can’t sing tonight gu—“

“We know, this happened last year, and the year before, and the year before—“

“Yeah, and Brian won’t listen to us about not scheduling a concert on this day,” Paul interrupted John.

“He thinks it’s just coincendence,” Ringo added.

“It’s not!” three-fourths of the most famous band in the world exclaimed. George was turning red. The three-fourths could not figure out if it was because he was embarrassed or if he had a fever already.

“It’s different this year guys,” he croaked. “We have a lot more fans to disappoint.”

“We’re not going to disappoint them, Georgie. All we have to do is have you sing nothing the whole night, and no one will even notice,” John pointed out.

“What about Do You Wanna Know a Secret?” George whined.

“We can do Long Tall Sally instead,” Paul suggested. George narrowed his eyes at him, knowing that Paul would have no problem with singing as many songs as he could.

“What are we talking about changing the setlist for?” Brian asked, coming into their hotel room.

“Here comes Denial,” John muttered. Brian glared at John, but then took one look at George and a look of realization came on his face.

“Oh God,” he groaned, putting his head in his hands. “What are we going to do?”

“We told you so,” the Three-Fourths sang. They were all so smug, and Brian was feeling nausus.

“I’m gonna call a doctor.”

“No need,” John interrupted. “I can tell you his diagnosis right now. Along with my nurse right here—“ he gestured to Paul, who grimaced.

“Why do I have to be the nurse?”

“Because you’re so good at it!” John assured him. Paul looked so proud of himself. “Now, nurse, what do we have here?”

“Um, a fever, sore throat and…” Paul pried open his mouth. “Yeah, it’s definitely gross in there.”

“Don’t forget his loss of voice!” Ringo added.

“Good work, assistant!” John rewarded. Ringo grimaced at being the assistant. “Now, nurse, this is the hard part. What do we recommend—for a steep fee of two-hundred pounds—for this young lad?” Paul pretended to think a minute.

“Wait a minute? If I’m the nurse, than why am I doing all of the work?” Paul wondered. John gave him a ‘he’s got a point’ face, and continued.

“Right, I’ll do the recommendation. So, Mr. Harrison, I want you to do the very complex and difficult thing…of staying in bed and drinking more fluids.”

“Not coke and scotch—“

“Yes, no coke and scotch—“

“And, you should give it to your remaining three-fourths!” Ringo added, cutting John off. Paul and John exchanged a grin, pleased with themselves. Brian had his head in his hands and was sighing heavily every few seconds.

“Boys, please, can you not break my spirit, just for one day?” Brian begged. Three-Fourths were hysterical, and even George was laughing a little, but it turned into a cough. They all looked at him sympathetically. He was wrapped in a blanket and sweating, but he was also shivering. He looked absolutely miserable. John went over to where he was sitting on the couch, and put his arm around him.

“Georgie, it’s okay, tomorrow you’ll feel as good as ever, and we won’t have to worry about this till next year,” he told him. George half smiled at him, feeling slightly better.

“Alright, I’ve made my decision. We’ll do the concert tonight, but if he’s not better by tomorrow, then we’re postponing the dates. George, if you don’t feel well enough to get up there—“

“I do,” he croaked. His voice was awful. He could barely speak, and when he did, it was so hoarse it was hard to understand him.

“Oh, we don’t have to worry about that,” Paul responded to Brian’s comment. “Tomorrow’s his birthday. George is never sick on his birthday.” One-half nodded in agreement, and the fifth just sighed in resignation, silently agreeing that George was cursed.

At the concert, George didn’t sing a note, and no one seemed to notice. Paul took over his songs, and George’s guitar playing was not interrupted by his raging fever. When the concert ended, they took a couple of birds up to their hotel room.

“I thought you were married,” a blonde moaned as she grinded into John’s lap.

“We’re on a break, sweetie,” he whispered in her ear before biting it.

“Just say it again,” Paul cooed to his ginger, who was kissing him over and over again.

“Oh, but I’ve already said twelve times,” she whined. Paul put on his best puppy dog face and she relented. “You’re the prettiest Beatle, Paul.”

“I know,” he replied, grinning.

“So, you don’t mind my nose?” Ringo was asking, with a girl on his lap. She had her arms around his neck and her head on his shoulder. He was gently rocking her.

“It’s fine, Ringo, really. I don’t mind noses as long as…well…something…else is big.” She winked half a dozen times before making out with him.

George sat in the corner, a brunette at his side. She was sighing heavily. Neither was touching the other. George was shivering, his nose running, and had one hand on his head and the other on his throat. She was looking worriedly at him.

“George, honey, are you alright?” She asked concerned, but there was annoyance in her voice. He promptly shook his head no. “Well, I’m open to catching anything you have. In fact, it’d be an honor.” He just shook his head.

“You don’t want what I have,” his voice was hoarse, as it had been all day, but to her it, was sexier than she’d ever heard it. She leaned in closer, put her head on his shoulder, and batted her eyes at him.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind.” She ran her fingers up her arm. He shuddered and then took his hand away. “Oh, come on, don’t play hard to get. You’ve already got me.”

“I don’t want you!” he snapped. She snapped her hands away and sat straight up. She looked hurt. “It’s not you. Any other night I’d be happy but toni—“ he broke into a coughing fit. She flinched, but after it subsided she got closer to him again.

“Do you want some…cough syrup?” She offered in a hoarse voice. He just shook his head.

“A few more hours,” he answered, shutting his eyes. “Rings, how close are we to midnight?” He asked. Ringo’s girl was on top of him kissing every part of him—every part. “John?” He asked weakly. John was swearing as his blonde grinded into him. The girl was screeching in response. “Paul?” he pleaded, but he was busy screaming, “The prettiest Beatle is getting it tonight!” George groaned and then had another coughing fit.

Just then, the light went on in the room, and everyone hissed. Paul was blinking a lot as he muttered, “Damn it, Brian.” The Ginger bit his neck before scurrying out of the room. “The prettiest Beatle didn’t get it,” he murmured after she left.

“What are you talking about? I was like this close to—“

Brian cut John off by clearing his throat. “Boys, it’s midnight, and you know what midnight means.”

“When the clock strikes twelve, the birds leave,” Three-Fourths responded in a monotone. George was busy sneezing in the corner, his bird still trying to get even a little something.

Brian went up to them. “Um, miss, I’m sorry to inconvience you, but it’s time to go home.”

“He’s sick.”

“We know he’s sick,” John responded. “But, give it another thirty seconds, and it’ll clear up.”

“Wait, we had thirty seconds, and you made them leave. Next time we run into Alain Delon—your ultimate stud—we’re interrupting you with thirty seconds left on the clock.”

“Because, we know that’s all you need,” Ringo told John, who just hissed a him in response.

“Weren’t you already done?” John snapped.

“Maybe if you kept your eyes on your own paper you’d’ve finished already,” Ringo retorted.

“Those are fighting words,” Paul murmured.

“Guys, guys, it’s midnight, and my voice isn’t back.”

“Will you give it five minutes?” Brian commanded.

“Oh, by the way, happy birthday!” the bird exclaimed as she left the room. Three-Fourths looked at him and smirked.

“Birthday punches!” Paul shouted, jumping over to the couch and bludgeoning him with a pillow. John and Ringo joined him, but beat each other more than they did George. After a few minutes, Brian picked up a pillow, and joined in.


	2. Happy Birth--Oh.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's George's birthday and the boys try to do something nice

In the morning, Paul was lying on top of John, who was playing with the younger man’s hair. Ringo was lying face down on the floor, a puddle of drool around him. Brian was sitting in a chair, robe on, pipe in his mouth, reading a newspaper. George was on the bed, curled up in all of the room’s blankets, his face still red, and occasionally coughing in his sleep.

John was the first of the fourths to wake up. He couldn’t get out from under Paul, but he wasn’t complaining. He just gently shook him awake, said ‘good morning,’ and then yawned. Paul rolled off of him and said ‘good morning,’ also.

“What are we going to do for George’s birthday?” Paul whispered to him. John shrugged and continued to play with Paul’s hair—he claimed it helped him think.

“I don’t know. What does the prettiest Beatle want to do?” Paul gasped, and then looked really emotional.

“You said that I am the prettiest Beatle!” He exclaimed tearfully. John nodded.

“I can’t deny the truth. You’re so, so pretty, my love.”

“Your love?”

“Yeah, my love. My lovely best friend that I only love in that brotherly way.” Paul giggled nervously, then kissed his mate’s head.

“I can’t believe I’m so lucky to have you as a mate.”

“That’s it! I’m never sleeping near either of you again!” Ringo exclaimed, jumping up, and going to the bed. He laid down next to a still unconscious George. “What should we do with the birthday lad?” John and Paul exchanged a smirk. “No to whatever you were about to say.”

“We were just going to suggest another pillow fight,” Paul answered innocently. That’s not what John was going to suggest.

“Just let him sleep for now,” Ringo answered, stroking his hair. “Wait, guys, he still feels warm.”

“What? That’s impossible. The curse is over,” John pointed out, reluctantly letting go of Paul’s hair to join Ringo on the bed. Paul hopped up, doing a very ballet type move as he did. Brian put down his newspaper and dragged his chair over to the bed. He pressed his hand to George’s forehead and then frowned.

“He’s still sick, and not even coming down off of it. He’s genuinely still sick. He might’ve even gotten worse.”

“But, it’s his birthday,” Ringo whined.

“Yeah, it blows being sick on your birthday. I was sick on my tenth birthday, and Mimi got my arse sent to the hospital because she thought my stomachache was Cancer. Guess what it was. Just guess!”

“Let it go, John,” Brian muttered.

“No, it was so traumatizing! I had to get eleven shots on my birthday. Eleven! That’s just wrong. I think that’s the day I became an atheist.”

“John, if you don’t shut up, I’m getting you that Tetanus shot you’re in need of. Got it?” John quickly sealed his lips. “I’ll call a doctor.” John and Paul raised their hands. “No, actual doctors. You know, that went to medical school and have actual medical experience.” John and Paul rolled their eyes.

“But, I know how to do stitches!” Paul offered.

“It’s true. When I broke some wankers hand in Hamburg a couple years ago, he stitched me up, good as new,” John added. Brian was sort of twitching.

“Okay, never mind that. I’m going to the front desk, to see who they recommend.” He gave Three-Fourths a knowing look. “Step out of this room, or mess with him, and you all get shots. Got that?” They all nodded fearfully.

Brian left the room and as soon as the door shut John said, “So, where do you want to go and what do you want do with ‘im?”

“Hon, I’m not taking that risk. It’s not worth it.”

“Besides, what do you possibly want to do that’s worth risking shots?” Ringo demanded. John just smirked and dashed for the door. Two-Thirds followed after him, leaving One-Fourth behind, asleep.

They were downstairs in no time, and saw Brian in the lobby. John winked at them, before taking someone’s hat and racing through the lobby. Brian noticed someone running by, and thought it was John, but being that it was only one, he let it go.

Paul and Ringo exchanged a worried look, then grabbed two more hats and raced through the lobby after their leader. When they reached outside they froze. John was sitting on a bench, shivering. None of them brought jackets and they were in Yorkshire in the dead of winter. It was a terrible idea.

“L-l-lets g-g-g-go b-back-k in-insi-i-ide,” Paul stuttered, shivering. John held onto him for warmth.

“W-w-wait, I-I j-just want t-to have fr-fr-freedom-m for-or a mom-om-oment,” John responded. Three-Fourths just sat outside in the cold, without jackets, for a few moments.

“We’re g-g-going to g-get n-n-nmon-on-onia,” Ringo pointed out after a while.

“Sh-sh-sh-shots,” Paul stammered in fear. The other three nodded before dashing into the nearest café. It was warm in there, and they wondered why they didn’t just hang out in there in the first place. They ordered coffees and then stole some scarves. They wrapped them around their faces, so anyone could only see their eyes. They hoped that that wouldn’t be enough to get recognized.

“What are we going to do about George?” Paul asked after they warmed up.

“Well, I think hiring a stripper is sort of a bad idea at this point. I mean, it’s cruel to give her any more disease than she already has,” John replied. Ringo nodded in agreement.

“Let’s just have cake and give him our gifts like we planned.” Paul and John exchanged a worried look. “What? You don’t think he can handle cake?”

“No, it’s not that—though, that is a possibility.”

“Considering he only ate half of a cracker yesterday—“

“And he looked like he’d throw up,” John finished Paul’s sentence. They were always doing that. “But, the stripper was going to be our gift.”

“Yeah, we were even going to have her write happy birthday George on her—“

“Coffee, boys—oh my God! You’re…you’re…” John pressed a finger to the waitress’s lips.

“John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and Ringo Starr, give us our coffee, we’ll give you an autograph, take a picture, and you give us the best cake you have for our friend.”

“Is your friend George Harrison?” She asked, trying not to scream. Three-Fourths nodded. Then she screamed. Everyone looked at her, but considering everyone in the café was forty and above, all they saw was a waitress screaming at some young boys. She cleared her throat, put down their coffee, and then ran away.

“She seems nice,” Paul commented after they left.

“Guys, I think we can get through his birthday just fine. It’s his...” Paul dropped his voice to a whisper, “illness,” his voice picked right back up, “that I’m worried about.”

“Is George Harrison sick?” Their waitress asked, dropping off a little cup of honey. John quickly grabbed a napkin, signed it, passed it around the table, took a picture with his camera, handed it to her and smiled.

“Thanks, you’re doing great, now…that cake?” He winked at her, and she dashed across the restaurant.

“This is serious, John. He just got sick with this a couple of weeks ago, and if Brian gets a doctor—“

“He is getting a doctor,” Ringo added.

“When he does, he’s probably gonna say…” Paul froze.

“Gonna say what, Paul?” John asked, concerned.

“I don’t know for sure, but…”

“But…?” Two-Thirds prompted.

“What if they think that it’s not just a curse? That there’s something seriously wrong with his tonsils.”

“First off, honey, there’s nothing that can be seriously wrong with his tonsils. Tonsillitis is as serious as it gets. Second off, they’re probably just going to give him antibiotics and he’ll be better soon. Don’t worry about him.” John replied. Even as he said this, he didn’t believe it. None of them did.

“Here’s your cake!” The waitress exclaimed, dropping the cake off. They all just stared at it, feeling sick.


	3. Any Day, Sure, But Not On My Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George has a rough birthday

They returned to the hotel to find Brian sitting there, a doctor examining a now awake George. He was glowering at them.

“Boys, why is it when I tell you to do something? all you do is the opposite?”

“Because you tell us to do stupid things,” John said plopping down on the bed. Ringo squeezed between George and John. Paul sat down next to John, leaving no space in between.

“Boys, you know what I’m going to have to do now.”

“I thought that was an empty threat!” John responded, fearfully.

“No, John, when I say things, I actually mean them.” He gave the doctor a look, who stopped what he was doing to George and turned to the boys. They all clung onto each other, sinking into the pillows. Paul grabbed the blanket and covered them in it. Under the blanket, Paul was hyperventilating, John was trying to think of a plan and as a result was spazzing out like a puppy, and Ringo was just sitting calmly. Two-Thirds glared at him.

“Why are you so calm?” Paul demanded.

“Because I’m not five.” Paul and John looked insulted.

“Well then, get out of our hideout,” John scoffed, pushing Ringo off of the bed and to the floor.

“That’s fine, because I’m not—ow!” the doctor had got him when he wasn’t looking, and now he was on the floor in agony.

“John, what do we do?” Paul begged, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him in closer.

“We can…” he was trying to think, but came up on nothing. That’s when Brian pulled the blankets off of them and was ready to kill them. They both smiled innocently. “Hi, Brian, how are you on this lovely morning.”

“Boys, it’s barely ten and you’ve already caused a day’s worth of trouble.”

“Really? Our day’s worth of trouble must really be slipping,” John commented to Paul. One-Half was shaking his head at him.

“Now, really? You’re going to choose now to be cheeky?” Paul responded.

“Paul, I can sometimes count on you. Would you like to willingly go next?” Brian asked hopefully. 

“Heeeeeeeellll no!” Paul answered with sass, hopping up from the bed and dashing to the loo. He locked the door and sat pressed up against the door. Brian looked at John desperately.

“Please, John, please just do this. You’re twenty-three, for Christ sake! Just do it!” John sighed heavily and then looked at George, who was getting blood sucked out of him. He put his hand on his friend and just nodded, squeezing his eyes shut, looking terrified.

The doctor taped the needle to George’s arm, and picked up a syringe from his bag. He uncapped it, pulled John’s arm into a good position, and then jabbed him in the crook of his elbow. John screeched really loud, squeezing the hell out of George’s hand.

When it was over, he said to George, “At least I don’t have to do that.” George narrowed his eyes at him, but then winced.

“This really hurts,” he whispered to John. “And, it’s my birthday!” He groaned. Ringo got up from the floor to pet his head and hold his hand.

“I spent three birthdays in a hospital, so don’t worry about it,” Ringo told him.

“At least you were there for an actual reason,” John muttered.

“Do you understand how much it sucked? I was completely alone on my seventh birthday, my fourteenth birthday, and my fifteenth birthday. My mum wasn’t allowed to see me, and to add to it, the only thing I was able to eat was evaporated milk. You talk about getting eleven shots. What about all that and a catheter.”

“Will you two shut up about who had worse birthdays? Because, that doesn’t change the fact that mine su—ow!” The doctor had pulled the needle out, and stuck another one back in.

“We need a little more blood for the lab. Just in case.”

“Just in case what?” All of them asked.

“Just in case the specialist needs any of his own.”

“Specialist?” George squeaked.

“He’s going to need to see an ENT.”

“What’s an ENT?” John asked.

“It’s an Ear, Nose, and Throat Doctor,” Brian answered for him. “It’ll be nothing,” he reassured George, stroking his hair.

“What’ll be nothing?” Paul finally emerged from the loo, when he realized no one was looking for him. John filled him in on George’s upcoming appointment. “That sounds awful!” he exclaimed. “Can we come?”

“Can it be not on my birthday?” George begged.

“Of course you boys can come. George definitely needs you.”

“Yes, I need you, but not on my birthday.”

“Is two-thirty okay?” Brian asked the doctor, ignoring George.

“Two-thirty is fine, as long as it’s not on my birthday.”

“You’ll have to check with Dr. Hinton. He’s not usually busy on a Saturday.”

“But…today is Saturday,” George whispered.

“Well, that’s good. We’ll be there at two-thirty.” Brian thanked him and then the doctor left.

“But…are we really going to wait until next Saturday?” Four-Fifths looked at him like he was crazy.

“Wait…I got out of getting a shot!” Paul exclaimed.

“Maybe I can catch him in the lobby.”

John turned to Paul and whispered, “Run.”


	4. We ARE Real Doctors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George goes to an Ear Nose and Throat doctor with the boys.

A few hours later, after the boys treated George to a lovely cracker, they took him to the ENT’s office. “Will it hurt?” George asked worriedly, sitting in the exam room.  
“Sure, everything will be fine,” Ringo assured him. He was sitting next to him on the table, stroking his hand.  
“Don’t listen to him,” John warned, wrapped in gauze in and blowing up rubber gloves.  
“Yeah, take it from someone whose mother personally showed him how to put in a catheter, don’t trust any of them,” Paul agreed. He was shining a small torch in John’s eyes. John flinched.  
“Your mum and you had weird times together,” he commented.  
“What, she used to bring me to work with her when I didn’t have school. She said that if something ever happened to me and she wasn’t around, that she wanted me to know how to fix myself.”  
“And a catheter would help how?” Ringo asked.  
“She thought it’d be useful if I ever became a doctor,” Paul explained.  
“But you didn’t,” Two-Thirds reminded him.  
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t unlearn how.”  
“Can we focus on my horrid birthday?” George interrupted.  
“George, I’m sorry that your birthday is ruined, but it’s not my fault that you got sick.”  
“Or that you’re cursed,” John added.  
“He’s not cursed. It’s a coiencedence.”  
“No, it’s a curse. He’s had it since he was eight.” George nodded in agreement. Brian just groaned and checked his watch.  
“When’s that doctor coming here?” He went to find a nurse.  
“George, just to let you know, if you survived getting your blood drained this morning, than you can survive this,” John informed.  
“It’s true. There’s not much else worse things they can do,” Paul added.  
“Yeah, at this point it’s mainly just X-rays and exams,” Ringo confirmed. George shuddered and John wrapped his jacket around him.  
“Guys, can I ask you something?” he asked timidly.  
“Sure!” Three-Fourths answered at the same time.  
“If you were me, would you be scared?” He looked at them, afraid.  
“Aw,” Three-Fourths all responded in unison.  
“Of course I’d be scared. You literally have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen to you. It could be mildly okay or horribly awful. You have no way of knowing,” John replied.  
“I would be too,” Paul agreed. “I don’t think the blood work this morning is the last of the needles.” George’s eyes widened.  
“I hate needles,” he responded, shuddering.  
“I wouldn’t be,” Ringo stated. Two-Thirds and One-Fourth gave him an annoyed look.  
“You’re used to it!” George pointed out. “I’m not.”  
“Hey, look at this way. This bloke is probably just going to do a bunch of really horrible crazy shit to you, and then give you a prescription, and send you on your way. So, you don’t have to be tortured for much longer.” George shrugged, thinking he had a point.  
That’s when Brian walked in with the doctor.  
“Harrison, George,” he called. George froze. Three-Fourths moved closer to him. “Tonsillitis, is it?” He asked him. George nodded slowly and Ringo moved closer to him. “Okay, let me take a look.” He picked up a torch and started to examine George.  
A few moments later, the doctor seemed satisfied with what he saw. “He’s gonna need antibiotics.” John and Paul shared a knowing look. “But, I understand this happens every year.”  
“To the date,” Paul added.  
“And, this happened fairly recently.”  
“At the beginning of the month,” Brian added.  
“Alright, I think this can’t continue much longer. Mr. Harrison, unfortunately, you’re going to need your tonsils removed.” Paul was silenced, Ringo was compassionately stroking George’s hair, Brian was calculating postponing tour dates but with much concern, and John was angry.  
“Why the hell do you have to do that?” He demanded.  
“The infection is coming back too frequently. It’s becoming persistent. It’s becoming very serious and we need to take care of it before it can get any worse,” the doctor explained. George was pale faced and breathing heavily. He didn’t say anything. “Do you understand?” George could barely nod.  
The doctor and Brian started discussing details and Three-Fourths started to move closer to him.   
"You okay?" John asked him. George shook his head. He still couldn't speak.   
"We're here for you," Paul reassured. He was squeezing his wrist. "We'll never leave you."  
"You'll be fine, honey. You have nothing to worry about." George squeaked.


	5. Questions of Torture, Torture and Surgery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys discuss George's situation

In the car, on the way back to the hotel, no one felt like talking.

"You know, Dr. Hinton told me that we don't have to do this right away. In fact, we can't do it for ten days, anyway. So, you can put off some of your worrying," Brian told them. 

They all exchanged a look of disbelief. None of them believed that George would be okay, except for maybe Ringo, but he was worried about him too. He knew he'd be okay in the  
end, but he wasn't so sure he could get through it. He's never been very brave about this stuff, so none of them really thought he could handle it. Paul was terrified that something  
terrible would happen and they'd lose him. He knew it was a minor surgery, but that still didn't mean that everything would go smoothly. He knew that anything could happen in  
that OR, and he couldn't stand thinking that his baby brother would go through that. John was scared that George would suffer throughout this experience. He figured surgery  
was another form of torture, and that everything leading up to it is torture, and afterwards when he's stuck in the hospital for a week is also torture. He wondered why they haven't found a more useful way of doing things by now.

"You've been unusually quiet. Come on, I want to know your opinion on this. How are you all feeling about this?" Brian prompted.

"I don't want anything to happen to George," Paul offered. 

"Nothing will. He assured me this is a very standard and safe procedure. You all have nothing to worry about," Brian explained. "Next?" 

"I don't want them to hurt him."

"Ringo, this is your area of expertise."

"John, honey, they can't hurt him. They could slice him up like a ham and he wouldn't even notice." George sucked in a sharp breath. "They won't, because they don't have to cut  
him open, but he won't know the difference, and that's what matters," Ringo explained.

"Well, then what are you worried about?" Paul asked him. 

"I'm not worried. I know they're going to take good care of him, and soon everything will be back to normal." Two-Thirds shared a look of disbelief.

"George, sweetie, how are you doing?" Brian asked concerned. He looked like he might cry.

"You guys said it all! I'm terrified! I can't do it and I know I can't. It's going to be horrible and don't tell me it's not. I don't want my tonsils ripped out. I don't care if they don't slice me open, 

they still have to slice out my tonsils. I don't want to go through that torture, and I feel so helpless." He started to cry, and Three-Fourths comforted him. 

"Aw, it's gonna be okay," Brian said, pulling to the side of the road. He leaned into the backseat and petted his hair. "I'm not an expert in this sort of thing, but I know this experience won't be as awful as you think."

"How do you know that?" He whispered.

"Because, I know how you boys tend to blow things out of proportion, and there's no way it's as bad as you're thinking right now." Brian was pretty convincing, but not enough for George, or anyone in that car besides himself for that matter.

"George, think of it this way. It's kind of like going to the dentist, except you're unconscious--"

"So, it's not as torturous," John added. "Or...is it?"

"John, shut up," Brian called from the front seat. He had started driving again.

"Anyway, it's just as painless and as easy as that."

"Can you please use a more accurate analogy? The dentist is not painless or easy, okay. You can convince me that surgery is, but nothing will ever convince me that the dentist is," John responded. Brian rolled his eyes in the front seat.

"Well, actually, since we have a few weeks break, I was thinking we take care of all of your annual appointments now." The boys groaned dramatically. They hated their annual 

appointments. These included doctor, dentist, optometrist--for John--and blood tests. 

"Wait...we're going to have to get..." John gulped, "Needles."

"But, we were good these past couple of hours!" Paul complained.

"Plus, it's February and we don't usually do them till May," Ringo pointed out. 

"Yeah, if we do this stuff less than a year a part, then that'll be...a problem...I think," John added.

"It's fine. Just behave. I have enough to deal with, with George."


	6. The Annual Agony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian fulfills his promise to take them to their annual appointments.

About a week later, they had returned to London, and Brian was almost midway through their annual appointments. John had already done his optometrist appointment that 

morning—which had gone very well—and now they were at their dentist's office, Dr. Riley. He was pretty young and nice, so they tolerated him. 

"I'm about to prove you so wrong," John told Ringo. Ringo just rolled his eyes. 

"At least you don't think surgery is torture now," Ringo replied.

"No, it still is, but in a different way."

"And, what way is that?" George asked worriedly.

"It doesn't hurt. it's more of what they do while you're unconscious, and you have to live with knowing that they sliced your tonsils out," John explained. George shuddered. 

"Boys, if you don't stop talking about cutting and slicing out George's tonsils I will keep all of your birds away, got it?" They all nodded. 

Just then, their dentist, Dr. Riley walked out. 

"Oh God, who's the first victim? it better not be me," John continued, "if it's me i'll die!" 

"Ringo, let's go." He ordered. Ringo was very smug when he walked in. Two-Thirds and One-Fourth couldn't figure out why. Brian was looking proud. 

"See, that's what i want the rest of you to do." the boys glared at him.

When Ringo came out he was no longer smug.

"You boys are looking at a dead man walking," he said, looking pale.

"Wow, and i'm dramatic?" John replied with a laugh. Ringo narrowed his eyes at him. 

"I'm serious. you don't know what happened in there." George scooted closer and squeezed his wrist. 

"It's okay, just tell us," George encouraged.

"Whatever it is, i'm sure you can handle it," Paul added.

"Yeah, okay, if Ringo--who let a bunch of crack pot doctors slice open his chest--is scared right now, then we know this is something he can't handle," John countered. Brian was 

growing very concerned. he was biting his fingernails and sweating a little bit. he expected John or George to reacted badly to this stuff, but Ringo was a different story. he was 

supposed to be the only sane one. if he lost him, then the rest of them would be gonners. 

"Okay, first of all, they weren't crack pots, and second of all, it's completely different. i was unconscious then. this time...i have to do this torture awake."

"What is it?" Three-Fourths demanded and Brian. Ringo let out a heavy sigh. 

"I need all of my wisdom teeth taken out." Paul's eyes widened, George started biting his nails, Brian started pacing, and John's mouth fell open. 

"You...you...oh man! where are we going to get a new drummer?" 

"I don't know!" Paul exclaimed.

"Who cares about that? Ringo is going to die!" George screamed putting his head in his hands. Paul patted his shoulder and John just stared at his doomed mate. 

"I feel really bad, and for that i'm not going to say i told you so."

"No, you were right. this place is a torture dungeon."

"Boys, Ringo is going to be completely fine. Ringo, they will numb you like they would anything else. you have nothing to worry about. you certainly aren't going anywhere," he 

reassured, patting his head. 

the door swung open and Dr. Riley stepped out again."John," he called. John couldn't have looked more horrified. shaking, he went inside.

Paul looked worriedly at Ringo. "Do you think you can do this?" He asked him, afraid. 

"There's no way anyone can do this," Ringo emphasized. 

"Well, if Ringo can't do that, then how do you expect me to be able to do mine?" George asked Brian.

"Yours is completely different. you'll be asleep. you won't experience anything other than a deep sleep. Ringo, on the other hand, will be completely conscious and aware of 

everything that's going on--not that his is going to be so bad either, but it is very different, George," Brian explained. 

"What he's trying to say is that Ringo is going to be in serious torment and pain, and you'll feel nothing," Paul added.

"That's not what i'm saying," Brian corrected.

"Then, George is going to be in pain and torment?" Paul asked confusedly. 

"No, he's going to be asleep."

"Oh, so he will be in pain and torment in his sleep and Ringo will be in it awake?" Brian slammed his head against the wall.

Just then, John walked out looking smug. 

"I'm guessing it went alright--" Paul was cut off by George.

"I'm going to be in pain in torment in my sleep!" he exclaimed.

"What about me? i'm doing it awake!" Ringo exclaimed. Brian felt like he wanted to die.

"You poor thing," Paul sympathized. "I guess we have to have two funerals then."

"Oh God, it's just going to be the two of us then." Two-Thirds smirked at each other. 

That night, the boys were hanging out in their flat together. 

"So...wisdom teeth, eh?" George asked him. he let out a heavy sigh.

"We're living in some weird messed up backwards world. how could i get the worst of it, and the rest of you didn't get anything?" Paul and John were smug. Paul, like John, had 

walked out smugly and free of any problems. George was less smug but his situation was the same.

"I think i'd trade a filling for surgery at this point," George answered honestly. Three-Fourths looked at him in shock. 

"I think he's gone mad," John whispered to Two-Thirds. 

"Oh God, he's lost it. first our drummer now a lead guitarist. just when things were getting better it all had to turn to shit," Paul agreed. 

"Guys, i think you're being too hard on yourselves. you're incredibly talented. you can bounce right back after your drummer passes on. besides, your guitarist isn't going 

anywhere," Ringo reassured them. George looked at him in disbelief. "George, i went through a lot worse operations than yours, and," he banged on the coffee table a few times, 

"i'm still here." 

"Rings, honey, you're not George. George is insane. do you hear him?" Paul replied.

"His marbles have long since been lost," John added. 

"My marbles are right here, thank you very much," George defended himself. 

"We're on your side," John reminded him. "So, congratulations. you and George get to go to the same place!"

"I still think he's going to survive. it's just a little operation."

"Yeah, that doesn't mean it's not going to be horrible!" George exclaimed. 

"How many times do i have to tell you? it's not!" George was skeptical still. 

"I still think you're both screwed," John concluded. 

"So, what do we do about it?" Paul asked. everyone thought for a minute.

"There isn't anything we can do," George answered helplessly, "We're doomed."


	7. I Can Do Blood--Nope

the next day, Three-Fourths met at Brian's apartment. Paul was the one that was missing. they were supposed to meet there so Brian could take them to get their blood work 

done, but Paul mysteriously didn't show up. "Where is he?" John wondered. George shrugged. 

"if he's trying to avoid this after all we're about to go through..." Ringo muttered.

"Hey, maybe he's just late. i mean, he wouldn't abandon us...would he?" George asked. John patted his shoulder and reassured him. 

"He wouldn't just abandon us unless he had a reason."

"He's a wimp-ass bastard," Ringo spat. 

"That's a reason," John pointed out. 

that's when Brian finally answered his door, and immediately asked where Paul is. before anyone could explain that he had simply not shown up yet, Brian's phone rang. 

"Hello, yes...it's me...i see...i see...are serious right now...you know you're coming...well, i do see that, yes, but...no i don't think you deserve to suffer and die...i guess if i have to 

wait anyway...but that's next week...fine...i'll see you soon." Brian hung up and everyone looked at him expectantly. "Paul's not coming," he informed. "he has to visit a sick relative 

in Scotland. he'll be gone till the night before you're surgery," he continued. George's surgery was scheduled for one week from that day. the day before Ringo was supposed to 

get his wisdom teeth removed. both were not eager about it. 

"But, that's not fair," George objected. 

"Yeah, why does he get out of shots and we don't?" John agreed. 

"he will. he's just going to get this done after George's surgery. now, we have an appointment in ten minutes, so let's hurry."

At the blood lab, the boys sat and waited to be called in. John looked faint. Brian put his hand on John's shoulder.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" He asked him tenderly. 

"I wish Paul were here," he muttered, "That little prick left us here to..." he sighed. "What am i supposed to do without him?"

"Do you miss him already?" George asked in surprise. John shrugged.

"It's been an hour," Ringo pointed out. "How are you going to survive the week?"

"I don't know," John groaned. "He's such a dumb ass," he grumbled. he sighed heavily again, running his fingers through his long hair. "i'd have been there for him," he added 

bitterly. Brian patted his back.

"I know, but he'll be back in a week, and as soon as he's back, i'm dragging his but here," Brian told him. John groaned in response. "What?" 

"I don't want him to get hurt."

"He won't be hurt," Brian reassured him.

"Just a little roughed up," George added. Brian gave him a warning look. 

"Think of it this way, at least he's not getting cut open," Ringo justified. John shuddered. 

"I don't want...to think of him that way," he replied, sounding horrified. he shook his head and grimaced. "Not Paul, not him."

"Well, he's not going to," Brian reassured him. "He's as healthy as you are." Brian tapped his nose. "Honey, Paul is going to be fine. It's just a little prick in his arm, a little blood 

through a tube, and he's done." John looked petrified. "I can't tell if you're scared for him or yourself," he commented. 

"Epstein," the nurse called, "I'm ready for your boys." John flashed a look at George, who looked ready to faint, and Ringo who had become very fidgety for a second. he thought of 

that coward in Scotland and stood up. 

"I'll go first," he offered, walking up to the woman. the boys stared at him in shock. Brian looked proud. 

"Very well, you can come with me," and she escorted a very pale John into the blood lab. they all watched in awe. 

Meanwhile, in Scotland.

Paul sat on his aunt's farm in the country, surrounded completely by grass and cows. he stared at the crook of his elbow where a needle would be pushed in at that very moment if 

he wasn't in the grassy countryside. he sighed, thinking about his poor friends having to suffer through it, but making no move to join them.


	8. It Can't Be That Ba--Yeah it is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the boys discuss their upcoming horrors.

the week between the appointment and George's surgery was filled with the whole group worrying constantly, with the exception of Paul who was still hiding out in Scotland. 

"I don't want to do it. i don't want to do it. i don't want to do it..." George said over and over again. 

"At least you don't have to get your teeth ripped out," Ringo muttered.

"When'd you turn into such a coward?" John asked him. "You used to actually...have courage. which is weird among our little group. what happened?"

"Do you even know what wisdom teeth extractions are like?" John shrugged. 

"Horrid, i'm sure, but i always thought you could handle horrible things."

"Yeah, well this is much worse than anything i've had to deal with before."

"Didn't you get lung surgery?" John asked. 

"Yeah, but i was asleep." he shot George a knowing look. "This is different. they're going to have to saw the tooth off of my bone--while i'm awake! and they have to cut open my 

gums. and to top it all off, they have to use pliers to rip my tooth out!" he was hysterical at this point and John stared at him in shock.

"I...i had no idea. i'm so sorry, Rings. is there...anything we can do in your...final days?" John asked carefully. Ringo shook his head. 

"Just make sure you get a good drummer."

"And lead guitarist!" George added sadly. 

"Don't worry...i will," John replied sadly. 

Just then, Brian walked in. "Guys, i just got off the phone with Dr. Riley, and he has to go away next week," he began. Ringo looked hopeful. "He has to take you tomorrow." Ringo's 

face fell.

"This can't be happening," Ringo whispered. "This has to be a mistake!"

Brian knelt down in front of Ringo and tosseled his hair. "Sweetie, you know i love you, right?" he nodded. "And you know that i would never let anything happen to you, right?" 

Ringo looked uncertain. he gave him a warning look. "i'm serious, Ringo. if i thought this was serious, then i wouldn't send you. but you will absolutely make it through this. will it 

be painful? probably a bit, yes, but you will survive no matter what. repeat that to me."

"i will survive no matter what," he replied, sounding afraid still. "it will hurt though?" he asked afraid.

"it could, i'm not saying it will. you will be numbed, so don't worry too much about that, okay."

"I'm not ready," he whispered. 

"I know, but we have no other choice." He stood up, looked sympathetically at John and left the room, while John watched him in slight confusion. 

"Why did he just look at me the way he looks at Paul before he gets shots?"

"No idea. Let's get back to me. You guys know that I suffered a lot as a child, but I honestly don't think I can handle this." The other two stared at him in shock. They knew that he 

was afraid but they didn't really believe that it was as bad as surgery. If Ringo could face that but he couldn't face this than it must really be bad. It made George believe that if 

Ringo had been able to handle surgery than that must mean that that it's actually not that bad. John could only think of one thing: he'd suffered before. 

"So who's gonna help me escape?" Ringo asked suddenly. 

"Ringo, you cannot escape," John debated.

"Yeah, not without me, you're not!" George agreed. John shook his head at both of them.

"Look, i know that it's going to be horrible, and it's going to suck getting a new drummer, but you need to do this for you," John explained. 

"Fine, that's fine. George and i will just die, and you and Paul can go on and be HALF of the Beatles without us," Ringo retorted passive aggressively. John was about to retort when 

Brian walked in.


	9. This Can't Be Happening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets some unexpected news.

Brian walked in. 

"John, may i speak with you alone." George and Ringo quickly hopped up and left the room. Brian looked at him solemnly. He sat down in front of John and took both of his hands. 

John looked at him incredulously. 

"Brian, what's up?" he asked nervously. 

"I just got off the phone with the blood lab, and they told me that they found signs of a blood clot in your upper thigh--that isn't serious--but is going to require surgery." John 

just stared at him for a long time, unsure how to react, or if what he just heard could even be true. "John, did you hear me? John are you breathing?" he pulled John in close, 

rubbing his shoulders, trying to keep him calm. "John breathe in and breathe out." he tried to but his breaths came out shallow. "Just lay down. i'm going to get you some water--

wait, i can't. you can't drink anything for twelve hours."

"Why?" John managed to squeak. 

"Because, you can't eat or drink anything twelve hours before you go under anesthesia," he explained. John started to really hyperventilate. tears streamed down his face and every 

part of him shook. his ears and face started to go numb. 

"Brian!" he shrieked. "i think i'm dying."

"You're not, you're not, you're going to be okay. just keep breathing. i'll get you that water. they can push it back a few minutes." he left, got water, and was back a minute later. in 

that time, John had curled into a ball and started crying. Brian knelt down next to him and started stroking his hair. 

"It's okay, it's okay. i've found you a great surgeon that's gonna take great care of you, alright." John started crying harder. 

"Surgeon. why did you have to say surgeon?" he squeaked.

"It's fine, everything is going to be fine. ask Ringo, he'll tell you. surgery isn't bad. it's really not. you'll have a really good night's sleep--that's all. that's all it's going to be like." 

John's sob slowed down and he looked at Brian skeptically. 

"You sure?" he asked fearfully. 

"Yes, i'm sure." he kissed his head. "And i'm sure you're going to be great. i know you can do this. i know you can. you just have to muster up that courage that i know you have."

"I don't have any," he whined. "i know you think that i do, because i act tough, but really i'm more afraid than anybody else here. i get horrible stage fright before every show--no 

one ever notices because i keep it hidden--but honestly if i wore my glasses on stage, and i was able to see everyone rather than a bunch of blurry blobs, than i would probably 

throw up on everyone." he paused to catch his breath. Brian had his hand on John's shoulder to keep him steady. "And, do you realize that i sleep with the light on every night, 

because i can't stand the dark? and you know about my fear of the dentist. i know a lot of people are. but are those people twenty-three, a father, and the leader of the biggest 

band in the world?" he started hyperventilating again. Brian gave him the water. after he finished he continued, "And something like this is much, much worse than any of those 

things combined. i'd rather go out on stage in the pitch black, and then get all of my teeth pulled than get cut open. do you understand, Brian?"

"You know, the other day when you all had to get blood work?"

"Yeah, that's how we got here."

"Well, do you remember that you were the first one to volunteer. yeah, because Paul wasn't there, and i didn't want the other two to suffer more than they already were. so what?" 

"You see, it was a really brave thing to do--and you did it, almost without even thinking about it."

"I thought about it a lot on the way there, actually."

"But, you still went through with it. that took courage. And at the eye doctor, you didn't even flinch once. i don't even think i could've done all of that without flinching." John smiled 

a little.

"Well, i've been doing it since i was ten. i'm pretty much used to it by now. and besides, it doesn't scare me. it might've once when i was ten, but now it's nothing."

"And, were you able to get through it when you were ten?"

"Yeah, but i didn't exactly have any other choice."

"You could've runaway. you could've fought it. but you didn't."

"i guess you're right."

"And what your self-proclaimed worse fear? the dentist. when they called you in, you were completely calm. if i didn't already know how afraid you were, i wouldn't have watching 

you." John smiled and hugged him. 

"Thank you," he said into Brian's shoulder, his voice muffled. "i'm still more afraid of this than those other things, though."

"Yes, but i'm sure there was a time when those things felt like the end of the world. you probably weren't even thinking of the worst thing. i mean, i can't imagine you thinking your 

first   
cavity wasn't the worst thing that could happen to you--medically speaking." Brian explained. John sort of chuckled at the thought. then he frowned.

"You're so right," he admitted. 

"And how did it go?"

"i hid in a plant," John replied flatly.

"Okay, but what about after you got out of the plant?" Brian asked encouragingly.

"I clawed the hell out of Mimi."

"After that," Brian prompted.

"Well, i guess it was okay. it didn't hurt or anything, if that's what you're asking." 

"And it was...?"

"Fine," John admitted. "But, that was teeth drilling. this is a bunch of crazed surgeons cutting open my leg and removing part of my blood--is that what they're doing?"

"Kind of. you're on the right track. what they're actually doing is removing the clot itself, through a very small incision," Brian explained. John started hyperventilating.

"I'm gonna go back to my earlier point of getting all of my teeth ripped out over this."

"John, you can't be serious. if a dentist removed all of your teeth--aside from the fact that you wouldn't have any--it would hurt--a lot. there isn't enough Novocaine that would 

prevent that much pain at one time. plus, you'd bleed a lot and i know you aren't that good with blood."

"You know i was talking hypothetically, right?"

"Yes, John, but inside of your head, you think that the dentist is easier than surgery, but i'm going to tell you something that you can't tell the others: surgery is a lot easier than 

the dentist. do you got that?"

"Ringo said that earlier, but he also mentioned suffering." Brian sighed and took both of John's hands. 

"Repeat after me."

"Nope. no way."

"John, just repeat what i say."

"No! i am not! because whatever you tell me to say is lies and i am not about to go on a lying streak when i am about to meet my maker!" he yelled.

"Who's meeting their maker?" George asked, coming back in the room. 

"George, i have some...inconvienent news," he told him, sitting him down next to John. 

"What's going on?" George asked worriedly. 

"John has to get surgery tomorrow, and because it'll be much easier if i get my boys in there at the same time, you're going tomorrow too."

"But that's not fair!" George exclaimed.

"i know that, but trust me, it'll be easier if you do it together." Brian put his arm around both of them, giving them both a reassuring look. "John is scared out of his mind, and so 

are you, but i know you too can comfort each other." John and George exchanged a worried look. "Your surgeries will happen at the same time and you'll be right next door to 

each other, so you'll be close, at least." he kissed both of their heads. "I love you both, and i believe in both of you. and repeat after me--"

"No," John interrupted.

"Fine. just try as hard as you can, to actually believe that everything is going to turn out okay." he kissed them both again. "Alright?" he looked like he was about to cry, but he tried 

to hide it. he promptly left the room.


	10. Paul Can't Go Solo--He Just Can't!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the boys react to John's news.

"Wait, i have questions!" John called back, but Brian had already shut the door. "Get...Ringo," he ordered. George dashed out of the room and found Ringo in his bedroom, eating 

ice cream and crying. "If Batman and Robin can’t work it out, than there's no hope for the rest of us," he yelled at the TV shoving a spoon of ice cream in his mouth. when he 

noticed George standing there he turned off the TV and put down the ice cream. he wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. "Yes, George?"

"Um, John needs to talk to you...right now." Ringo quickly got up and was about to the leave the room when George stopped him. 

"Ringo, what you said earlier about you suffering now more than you did as a kid...did you mean that?" Ringo wrapped his arms around George pulling him in close.

"Oh, Georgie, you're not gonna suffer--but i know you, and i know how scared you get, so i know how hard it's going to be for you." George sniffled.

"Yeah, well, what about John?"

"John?!" he exclaimed. 

he ran out of his bedroom and out to the living room where John was lying on the floor, eating jelly babies, and humming Amazing Grace. he looked like he had been crying. 

"John, John!" he exclaimed. "Do you need...oh God, you do, don't you?" he knelt down next to him. John looked at him and booped him on the nose.

"I think that Paul's gonna be a really great solo artist, don't you?" Ringo's face twisted up like he was going to start crying again. 

"No!" he exclaimed suddenly, sitting up straighter. he pushed himself up and started pacing. George sat pressed against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest. John laid on the 

floor. he looked like he was in a bit of a trance.

"I'm surprised you'd say no. he is so talented--the best bassist in the world. and he has great vocals. plus, he's charismatic and good looking. yeah, he'll be a success. you'll see." 

he closed his eyes, a satisfied smile on his face. "You know, when i die, i'm going to get to see my mum again, and i thought i'd have to wait a really long time before i saw her, 

but nope. she's gonna be here tomorrow." he started laughing horrifyingly. Ringo was starting to get really scared. 

"George, stay here," he commanded as he ran out of the room. John continued to laugh hysterically as tears streamed down his face. then he looked up at George, "you have 

anyone you're going to see tomorrow."

"Just my cat." George was getting scared too.

"I have cats too. that'll be nice. my mum loves cats." Suddenly, George got up and sat down next to John. 

"I'm not going to let you die. not you, not our Johnny." he started hyperventilating. "We'll runaway. like Ringo suggested earlier. we can run to Scotland, like Paul did!" John stopped 

laughing and looked at George seriously.

"It's too obvious. we need to go somewhere they'll never think of looking. what about New Zealand or South America?"

"We can go to India. at least we like their food," he replied with a shrug, knowing John loved his wife's curry. 

"I do love curry," he mused. "India it is!"

Ringo came in a minute later and he had Brian with him. John flinched. he pulled Ringo close to him and whispered. "You'll ruin our escape."

"John, you're scaring me. i don't think you're handling this well," Ringo told him calmly. 

"John, just to be safe, we're going to check you into the hospital tonight. i don't want anything happening to you." he started hyperventilating again. "John?" he turned completely 

pale. "Johnny?" he asked worriedly. John fell backwards, his eyes closing. he almost smiled as he lost consciousness.


	11. On His Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's taken to the hospital

there was a huge panic in the room, as Brian frantically called 999. Ringo got John warm water and then took off his shoe, waving it in front of John's face. George held John's 

hand, keeping his pulse with his thumb. 

less than ten minutes later, John regained consciousness in the ambulance. the first thing he said was, "i hate ambulances. they're portable torture machines." he sounded sleepy 

and his words were muffled. an EMT shined a flashlight in his eyes.

"You're gonna be okay, John," Brian told him. 

"Yeah, for now," George added. Ringo elbowed him. 

"can i tell you both for the millionth time that surgery isn't that bad?"

"Easy..." he coughed, "for you to say." Brian squeezed John's shoulders looking down at him. he was trying so hard to hold himself together, but it was getting difficult watching 

John strapped to a heart monitor on a gurney. 

"The doctors aren't going to operate right away--don't worry," Brian reassured him.

"When?" he asked weakly.

"Tomorrow morning. seven o'clock."

"That's too soon," John argued.

"It's more than twelve hours from now. it's fine. just get a good night's sleep, and you'll feel better in the morning." 

"How? how will i possibly feel better about this?" he demanded, his voice strained. 

"We'll help you, i promise. Ringo can talk you through it. George is here to go through it with you. i can tell you what's going on. and there's someone else waiting for you, that i 

think will help."

"Is it Cyn? my beautiful amazing wife that i haven't seen in weeks?" 

"Um...no, but it's someone else that you love?" John thought for a moment.

"There's so many people that i love," he mused. 

"It's Paul," George finally interjected. a smile spread across his face and his eyes lit up.

"Paul, my Paul is coming back?"

"Yep, i called him earlier. he's on his way." John felt better the rest of the way.


	12. Options

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ringo and John assess their options after arriving in the hospital

when they got there, Paul wasn't there yet. John was disappointed, but knowing that he'd be there soon kept him going. even when the doctors started sticking needles in him.   
it wasn't long after he got there that the doctors put him in a room and left him alone. they told him they'd be back for X-rays in an hour, and in the meantime, they're going to get George settled. this sent George in a panic. he started hyperventilating and shaking. a nurse tried to pull him away but he resisted.   
“Can I stay here for a few minutes? To say goodbye?” the nurse nodded and George turned to the other two. He pulled them in for a big hug and whispered to them, “It was a good plan.” When he pulled away he looked like ready to cry.  
“We’ll see you before you go in,” Ringo called to him. John nodded in agreement. The nurse started pulling him away.

“Tell Paul he owes me five quid—and to just put it in my casket!” he turned to the nurse. “I’m ready,” he replied boldly.

“Alright, then, let’s go,” she replied, annoyed, pulling him out of the room.

After he left, John looked at Ringo and said, “Do you think we should do something?”

“There’s nothing we can do. Tomorrow, two-thirds of the Beatles will be dead. We can’t change that.”

“We were talking about running away. Do you think we still could?” John asked hopefully.

“I wish I could say yes, but hospital security’s pretty tight. Plus, you being you, you won’t be able to hide. I say, we just die with honor, like we’re supposed to. That’s how I 

planned to do it when I was a kid. that’s how we should do it now.”

“No,” John objected. “I’m not ready to die and neither are you, so let’s find a way out!”

“Even if you escaped, it’d only be temporary. Eventually we’d have to come back. We can’ just abandon our families, our homes, and our careers because we’re afraid of getting 

surgery.”

“Correction, we’re getting surgery, you’re getting dental work.”

“Still gonna be awful.” He paused and then continued, “You do know you two aren’t actually going to stop living. You are basically gonna take a really long nap—and I understand 

the horrors of it—but in the end, that’s all it is to you. A nap. It’s a pretty nice one too. One where you don’t have to get up afterwards and be productive. It’s really not that—“

“Don’t say it’s not that bad. Don’t. not when some arse is going to be slicing me open, doing god-knows-what to my body. It’s fucking terrifying, and you don’t understand. This 

is the scariest thing I’ve ever had to face in my life, and I don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Don’t tell me that I don’t understand, because I understand perfectly clear. If you can recall, I did have five surgeries before you hit puberty.” John looked hurt. "I'm sorry, it's just 

that you really don't get what it's like, but i understand how scared you are. i was too. just don't question what i know, because i know a lot more than you ever will--hopefully." 

when he finished talking he hugged John. "i think i should let you rest. you'll feel better tomorrow if you're well rested," he told him before walking out. 

once he was gone, John rolled over and faced the wall, trying to think of a way to turn off his reeling brain. all he could think about was what they were going to have to do 

tomorrow and it was torturing him. even though he didn't know the specifics of it, he was still scared of the few things he did know. and the more he thought about it, the more 

he began to be afraid of the reason he was in here in the first place. he didn't know what a blood clot was or how it got there and it was really scaring him. all he wanted was for it 

all to just to disappear and to never face it.


	13. Just Images

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets his X-rays

a little while later, the nurse came back in and told him it was time to take his X-rays. he wanted to object, but he figured that X-rays weren't his biggest worry right now. so, he 

followed her. as he was walking down the hall, he passed George's room. he looked inside and saw George looking vulnerable, strapped to machines and an IV in his arm. he felt bad 

for the kid. but also felt really upset. George was like his little brother and he hated seeing him like that. then an image flashed through his head of George lying on an operating 

table, a doctor hovering over him with a scalpel, ready to cut him open. John cringed.

the nurse dropped John off with a radiologist, who was a women in her sixties. she smiled a lot. "John, sweetie, what i'm gonna need you to do is to lie on this table for about 

twenty minutes and i'm gonna be in the next room, examining your results, okay?" he nodded nervously. "Okay, there's nothing to be nervous about. just take a seat. i'm gonna 

take good care of yeh, okay." he nodded again and laid down, closing his eyes. she put a blanket over him and he started to get even more nervous, as it became more and more 

real. 

"Um, doctor, what's gonna happen exactly?"

"Aw, it's just an X-ray. you won't feel a thing, okay. it's just images."

"Right, right," he replied, his voice high pitched.

"Alright, i'm gonna go now. in about a minute i'm gonna turn on the machine, okay?" he nodded, but he really wasn't okay with it. he heard her footsteps leave the room, the whole 

time thinking that if he couldn't get through this, than he couldn't get through surgery. after counting to sixty he waited for something to happen, but nothing did. he heard a 

distant buzzing sound, but that was it. he wondered if that really all there was to it. just buzzing and then nothing. 

for a while he sat there, feeling relieved and a bit relaxed, but the fear of his impending doom started to creep in. particularly lying on that table. it reminded him of an operating 

table--not that he'd ever seen one in person--but that the one he'll lie on tomorrow won't be so different. he started picturing doctors in his mind, hovering over him, scalpel in 

hand, ready to slice open his upper thigh, and god-knows-where-else. he pictured other doctors and nurses surrounding them, wearing surgical masks with only their eyes 

showing, their eyes that would stare down at him, as they worked. and finally, he pictured the stainless steel tools that would line the table next to him. they would be sharp and 

oddly shaped, each serving a precise purpose. a shudder went down his spine.

"Sweetie, can you not move?" the radiologist called from the next room. John willed himself to stay still. once again closing his eyes and trying to think of something else, anything 

else. he forced himself to think of Paul and that made him relax, thinking of his beautiful round face, his deep hazel eyes, and that thick head of almost black hair that just 

brushed at his eyes. John got giddy thinking about him, knowing he was just hours away from seeing him--maybe even less. so by the time the radiologist popped back into the 

room and called, "Time's up!" he had felt as relaxed as ever.


	14. It's Not As Gruesome As You Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's dread increases

to his disappointment, Paul wasn't there when he got back. he asked the nurse if he could have any visitors and he was given a hard no. "Just rest for now," he was told once again. 

but he couldn't rest knowing that a) Paul was going to be there soon and b) he was going under the knife in ten hours. he thought he might burst from anticipation. he just lied in 

his bed, tossing in turning, his mind racing, thinking almost solely about the tools. he had seen a scalpel in a movie once, but he had no idea what the other tools would be like. 

he knew there'd be stitches, and that freaked him out. it made him think of a ragdoll or some weird Frankenstein-like experiment. he shuddered at the thought. he tried to 

remember what Brian had told him before. he was starting to get these horrible images in his head of his skin being sewn together like cloth, so he started hyperventilating again. 

just then, a machine started beeping and a nurse dashed into his room.

"Oh sweetie, what happened?" she asked, examining one of his machines. "It appears your heart rate has sped up. are you feeling alright?" she pressed her hand to his forehead. 

she then waved a flashlight in his eyes, took his pulse, and finally asked him to open his mouth and she peered inside. "Well, you seem alright now, but there had to be something 

that sped up your heart rate. are you nervous?" he tried to laugh it off but he knew she saw right through him. "You know, i get a lot of patients in here, and almost every one of 

them is nervous--like really nervous. usually we have a problem of keeping their heart rate down, not up. so, what you're feeling, is completely normal."

"Well, yeah, but how do i fix it?"

"You don't. nothing is going to change the fact that you're scared until after you've done it." that made him feel even more doomed. "But, usually after it's over patients feel fine, 

and they don't even remember what they were afraid of anyway."

"Would you be, knowing what you know about it?"

"Well, you'd think no, right, because i do this all the time. i've done heart surgeries loads of times. in my residency i did brain operations. but i think it makes it a little worse, to be 

honest, knowing exactly what's coming for me. well, it's hypothetical so i don't have to worry about that--but you, don't even think about what i'm going to do tomorrow."

"You? you're assisting on my operation?" he asked in surprise. she laughed in response.

"Sweetie, i'm your head surgeon." she couldn't have looked more smug and a bit satisfied. "And you assumed i was a nurse. i didn't realize i was operating on a caveman." his eyes 

widened.

"i'm sorry, please don't hurt me. i just never met a female doctor before, that's all!" he exclaimed. she laughed again.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she insisted, but the way she said it scared him to his core, as if that was the opposite of what she's going to do. "You'll be a sleep, it's impossible." he 

somehow doubted that. "Anyway, i didn't mean to scare you. tomorrow, you'll be in dream while all the gritty stuff happens in the real world. you won't notice it, i swear. besides, 

it's actually not as gruesome as you think.i just have to cut a whole here," she pointed to his groin, "and then push a tube through it, and then cut another whole here," she 

pointed to just above his knee, "and with a few small tools, i break a part your clot, remove it through a tube, stitch you up, and your done." he went pale again. "It really isn't so 

bad, you know. it'll feel like no time at all has passed. and when you wake up you'll be in a no pain. nothing to worry about, see?" he found a lot of things to worry about, but he 

rather stopped talking to her than bring it up, so he just nodded. she smiled back to him, got up and went to the door and said, "You know, the risks are very low. there's only 

about a one-in-a-million chance of anything going wrong. so relax, please. get a good night's sleep." then she was gone. John felt like he could never sleep again.


	15. Still Uncertain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul returns and John contemplates his situation

be wide awake at this hour, but his stressing was tiring him out, but with the doctor's descriptions running through his head, he could barely even blink, let alone fall asleep. 

the door swung open and Paul walked through the door. he gave John this nervous smile and sat down next to him. "Hey sweetie," he greeted, "how are you feeling?" John 

groaned. "i feel really bad about what happened. i mean, a blood clot? you? how does something like that even happen?"

"i don't know. i don't really even know what it is." 

"Well, it's just this thing that clogs up your veins--"

"I don't want to know," John interrupted. then he stopped looked up at his best mate and hugged him for a really long time. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too. i'm sorry i couldn't be here earlier."

"No, it's okay. running away to Scotland to avoid a needle is a totally rationale thing to do," John replied. Paul chuckled. 

"My aunt really was sick."

"i thought it was your cousin?"

"Was it?" They both laughed. "Anyway, i really want to talk to you about your surgery. i'm really worried about you--not because i don't think you'll do well, but because i'm not 

sure you can handle it."

"You couldn't handle it either," John pointed out.

"True, but at least i know a little bit about surgical procedures." John looked at him concerned, unsure what his best mate was about to say, and whether or not it was going to 

make everything worse. "Well, you know when you go under anesthesia?"

"Yeah."

"Well, my mum says it feels kind of dizzying, but in a nice way. you just sort of lie there and watch everything get fuzzy, your head feeling the same way. then once your asleep, 

which happens pretty quickly, it feels like almost no time has passed, and when you wake up, you feel pretty tired and fuzzy, but i promise you'll feel better." he hugged John 

again. "You won't go anywhere, i promise."

"And while they're doing all of...that...what does it feel like?" John asked shyly.

"I told you, it feels like only a small amount of time has gone by." Paul answered reassuringly.

"But physically, what does it feel like? because, i was on laughing gas once, and i was dizzy and stuff like you said, and it did go by quick and everything, but i still felt all the usual 

pressures on my teeth--and not in a pleasant way. so, is it anything like that?" John asked carefully. 

"I don't...think so...i don't...know, actually. i never had laughing gas, so i wouldn't be able to tell you. but, aren't you awake for that?"

"Yeah, but you're still out of it. i was just wondering if you were asleep in the sense that you weren't really aware-aware of what was going on, but you could still...i don't 

know...feel stuff. like, i can't imagine getting cut open and not being able to feel that." Paul thought about that for a while. "And, honestly, what they have to do is much worse 

than i imagined." 

"Well, my mum says that it doesn't hurt--if that's what you're worried about."

"I know...i guess," he replied. Paul hugged him again, awing. 

"Aw, sweetie, it doesn't, really."

"I know, i know, but...i don't know...the whole idea of it freaks me out." Paul patted his shoulder. 

"Honesty, it would scare me too."

"That's what my surgeon said. do you think that maybe the more you know about medical procedures, the more you're afraid of them?" John wondered.

"i don't know, but i think it's best that you rest." John groaned in response. "What?" 

"Everyone is telling me to rest, but i can't. i can't possibly fall asleep under these circumstances." Paul opened his mouth to reply but had nothing to say. "Paulie," he pulled him in 

close. "Please help me, somehow, please."

"I don't know what you want me to do." John thought about that a while, and he realized that there wasn't anything that Paul or anyone else could do. he just had to do it, and that 

shook him to his core. 

"So, i have to have some freaks slice into me and then stick metal things and tubes inside of me?" Paul looked like he might cry. "What sweetie?" 

"I hate it too," he replied thickly. "But, i will wait for you, i promise. i won't leave this hospital until you can." they hugged again.

"Don't leave me now."

"I'll stay as long as i can."


	16. Being Gooey Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul and John get a little gooey.

they stayed in each other's arms for almost an hour, not saying a word. John played with Paul's hair. Paul didn't look at John, afraid he might see him holding back tears. "You 

know, Paul, you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"You too," Paul replied, turning around and kissing John's head. "I'd do anything for you--anything."

"And you know i'd do anything for you." John kissed Paul's head. "You're my little sunshine."

"You're being gooey."

"I'm going under the knife in eight hours. i can be gooey." Paul giggled. "I love your laugh."

"i love your smile." John smiled and looked away, his eyes lighting up. there was a pause of silence. "I'm sorry that i ran away to Scotland."

"Oh, but your cousin-aunt was sick," John replied knowingly.

"John, i'm gonna tell you a secret that might blow your mind."

"Go on."

"None of my relatives were sick."

"You're kidding? well than why did you go to Scotland the night before we had to blood taken?" 

"I was scared, John," Paul admitted.

"You? Scared of needles? since when? was it that time in Hamburg that we had to get penicillin shots and you broke down an elevator--with the rest of us inside of it--just to 

delay your shot about an hour and a half. and when they finally got you out, you ran around the office until the doctor pinned you down and stabbed you with the damn thing. was 

that any indication of your fear of needles?" Paul narrowed his eyes at him and then smiled. 

"I just didn't think i could do it. i'm not brave like you." John smiled and kissed his cheek. 

"That's a sweet, but i don't entirely believe you."

"No, it is. think about it. if you had been a coward like me, than the doctors wouldn't have found your blood clot until maybe it was too late."

"Too...late?"

"Well, if they go untreated, they could lead to serious infections which can lead to...you know what, don't worry about it. you're getting it treated just in time. so don't even worry 

about the what if." John's did the complete opposite of that. his eyes bulged as he thought of infinite scenerios where he hadn't gotten his blood taken in time. "John!" Paul 

exclaimed, snapping his fingers in his face. "Come on, sweetie, focus."

"I could've...died?"

"Not died! just had one less leg that's all." John's eyes grew wider. 

"Why didn't anyone tell me about this?"

"I guess they didn't want to scare you."

"Well, yeah, now i'm freaking out!" he yelled.

"You shouldn't. they're going to take care of it tomorrow--that's in plenty of time. if it wasn't you'd be having it right now." John screeched at the thought of that. but before 

anyone could say anything else John's surgeon came back in the room. 

"Well, it looks like you're heart rate shot right up again," she said walking over to the machine. "You need to relax," she told him, taking his arm and squeezing it. he looked at her 

confusedly before he noticed the syringe in her other hand. "Mr. McCartney, i think it's best if you go now." 

"Bye, John," Paul called, getting up. before he left he kissed John's head. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?" John nodded. "Sleep tight, okay. you need your rest."

"No, i'm fine, real--ow!" he screamed as his doctor stuck the needle in his arm. "You should ask first!" she smirked as she taped down the IV. 

"If you're okay..." Paul said.

"I'm fi--" John fell asleep that instance. Paul leaned down and kissed his head and then left.


	17. This Game We Play

a few rooms over, Ringo and George sat on his bed. they had playing cards in their hand, and were staring each other down. after a minute they broke into hysterics. "You know, 

have to get used to this."

"What? beating you at poker?"

"No, playing cards--every night--for the rest of the week. it's all you can do, really."

"It's only tonsils. they'll let me out early." Ringo gave him a knowing look.

"They're going to keep you here a week, same with John. it's standard."

"But, that's not fair. i can't stay in here a week. i'll go nuts!"

"George, don't be dramatic. it's one week. i was here two years." 

"I know, i just can't stand these places. they're creepy, you know. it's unsettling to think about all of the horrible stuff they're going to have to do here all the time. i mean, right, 

there's probably someone getting brain surgery."

"Yes, but that doesn't affect you in anyway."

"It's still all happening under this roof. i can't escape the thought while i'm here, and yet i'm stuck here for a whole week."

"At least, you acknowledge that you're gonna make it through tomorrow."

"Well, i guess so. but, i really wanna ask you. when you said you suffered a lot as a child, what did you mean?"

"Just that getting that many operations--particularly close together, as many of them were--it was really difficult to go through. i was in a lot of pain all the time. plus, i was 

trapped in a hospital for a long time--and you can obviously imagine how awful that was."

"But the going through it. was that...okay?"

"Surgery is fine, mate. when are you going to get that through your head?"

"But...does that mean i'll suffer afterwards?" George asked wearily. 

"I don't know. i haven't had my tonsils out. but after i had my appendix out i was in tremendous amounts of pain, and if getting one organ out is anything like getting a different 

organ out, than sure, it's painful--wait, i shouldn't tell you that." Ringo explained.

"No, it's good for me to know."

"You're pain tolerance is high, right?" George glared at him. "Hey, they'll give you drugs."

"Still not a risk i'm willing to take."

"Not you too. you are not going to start thinking about running." Ringo warned.

"I just feel so uncertain about this. Ringo, i know i'm supposed to do this with John, but i'm just not ready, and i don't think he is either." George paused looked Ringo seriously in 

the eyes, "And i know you're not ready either." Ringo thought about it and then sighed.

"George, please, understand that what you both have to go through is very important, and there's no real sense in putting it off."

"And yours...?"

"If you lot go, then i'll go too. it's that simple. it's the right thing to do."


	18. Not John's Ideal Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter came so late. i had trouble with my computer so i couldn't update. i promise you will get another chapter very, very soon to make up for it.

Back in John's room, John lied asleep. in his dreams he stood in front of two silver doors. one of the rooms was labeled 'operating room,' he looked at the next one. it was labeled 

'anywhere else.' he immediately went into that door. 

inside was another door labeled stage door. he went inside and was immediately met with a huge crowd of screaming girls. the boys were waiting for him, but as he walked to the 

stage he realized that it was getting harder and harder for him to walk. his leg was in pain and looking down he realized it was swollen. he stopped dead in his tracks and stared 

at his mates in horror.

"John!" Paul screamed in horror, his voice sounded like it was underwater.

"Pau--" he couldn't speak. the pain was too much for him. he was trying to catch his breath but it was too hard. suddenly, George and Paul were grabbing him and pulling him 

away. he tried to move, but couldn't. 

suddenly, he was in a bright room, lying on a table. a woman wearing a surgical mask stood over him with a scalpel. "i told you, John, you have no other options." she lowered the 

knife over his leg. he screeched.

and then he woke up. 

he looked around his room, hyperventilating, his heart racing. he knew his doctor would be there in minutes to check on him, and he knew right then, that he never wanted to see 

her, or anyone in that profession, ever again. so, he dashed out of the room and down the hall, as quickly as he could.

he found Ringo and George asleep in George's room. 

"Get up! We're going to bloody India!" Ringo and George woke up, blinking at him. 

"John, what the fuck are you doing?" Ringo demanded angrily. 

"Saving your arse--now get up!"

"John, i told you a million times. you don't have any other choice."

"I know that, which is why i need to fucking make one! Now let's go before someone sees us!"

"I'm down," George replied sleepily. They both looked pleadingly at Ringo. he stood strong against them, his arms folded, his brows furrowed. John had a look of realization on his 

face, then he winked at George, before grabbing him, prying open his mouth and putting his fingers in his mouth in a claw like gesture. he pretended to tug at one of George's 

teeth. he screamed out in fake pain, and Ringo just stood there, narrowing his eyes at him. "Drill!" he screeched before pretending to drill into George's mouth with his fingers. 

George screamed again. Ringo quickly pulled George away and shushed them both.

"Fine, i'll do it, but we're only going to be gone a week, and then we're doing this thing." John smiled in satisfaction as he exited the room.


	19. To the Exit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other three make their grand escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Two chapters in one day! i promise i'll have more of this in three-four days. thanks for reading and enjoy

they ducked down into the hallway hiding behind a cart of meals. a nurse came to push it away and we quickly dashed into an empty room nearby. Ringo locked the door.  
"What do we do?" he demanded.

"You know it's worse outside," George pointed out. "There's got to be cameras, press, and fans all out there."

"We can't go out there as ourselves," Ringo pointed out. they all looked at John. "It's up to you, since it was all your brilliant idea." John thought a moment. then ran out of the 

room, grabbing two surgical masks and a sheet before he did. the boys followed after him. 

"George, get on this gurney," he ordered. George climbed up, then John threw a sheet over him. John demanded Ringo for his pants. 

"I can't walk around in this!" he gestured to his dressing gown. 

"Then what about mine?" John thought a moment. then ran into a nearby closet. he came out with two pairs of scrubs. they put them on, Ringo did so wearily, and then John threw 

the sheet over George.

"Wait am i supposed to be dead?" he demanded.

"George, if you don't shut the fuck up i am going to leave you here," John threatened. he fixed the sheet and started pushing it down the hallway. Ringo had the other end. 

"How are we going to get outside with this?"

"I have a plan," John insisted.

"Somehow i doubt that," Ringo replied. they pushed it down several hallways and onto an elevator. they ended up on the elevator with a pair of surgeons. they were in scrubs too. 

One of them was a woman. John didn't think there could actually be two female surgeons in one hospital--until he turned around. he quickly looked away.

"Shame, isn't it?" She said, indicating the fake dead body. "Was he your patient for a long time?"

"Uh..." Ringo stammered. he nudged John. John looked directly at Ringo and said, "hallo mein Fisch ist grün genannt." Ringo gave him a confused look. George held his breath so 

he wouldn't laugh. 

"Oh, i'm sorry, i didn't realize you didn't speak English. My mistake." there was silence, and John felt relieved. She then gave John a side look and then her eyes went wide. "Oh my 

God, you look a a bit like--" the elevator doors opened and John ran out of the elevator, leaving George and Ringo behind. "Do you know hi--" Ringo dashed out of the elevator. 

"You forgot--?" she lifted the sheet and George opened one eye and said, "We're nice guys, really." she glared at him. "Get up! And get your friends." he ran off the elevator, hitting 

the button for the top floor and then dashing off, leaving her behind.

George caught up with John and Ringo near the entrance. outside they could see their fans sleeping in sleeping bags and the press poised with their cameras, also asleep. 

"Maybe this won't be so--" John opened the door and all of a sudden an alarm went off and all of the people outside woke up and saw George, saw their hair, and started yelling.


	20. The Grandest of All Escapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the boys make their grand escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, i have some exciting news that doesn't directly relate to this chapter, but rather about this fic as a whole. so, in addition to the fact that there's still quite a bit more chapters to go, there's officially going to be a sequel and possibly a third one. it is in the works now, and you will get it some time soon after this one is finished. thanks for reading!!

"What do we do?" John demanded.

"Run!" George screamed, running out the door. John and Ringo followed behind. EMTs and doctors were on their tail and as soon as they got outside, they were bombarded with 

the press, who were screaming at them and taking pictures. 

they turned around and saw Brian approaching the lobby.

"All we have to do is get away from him--now run!" John took an unexpected turn towards the emergency entrance, the boys followed after him. he found an ambulance with an 

EMT sleeping inside. he pushed the EMT out and gently put him on the ground. John hopped into the driver's seat, Ringo called shotgun, and George hopped into the back. John 

pulled out, turning at an awkward angle.

"John!" Ringo screamed.

"Don't!" the breaks screeched, "Distract," there was a crash as he ran into a sign, "Me," he rammed into the entrance and then plowed forward. 

"You can't drive," Ringo pointed out.

"Do you want to switch place?" John snapped. he was almost to the end of the driveway. the army of EMTs and doctors were blocking the exit. he took a sharp turn onto the grass, 

just skating around them. he was out into the street. the EMTs and doctors turned around and went inside, but then they hear sirens.

"Let's shut up and get the fuck out of here!" George screamed from the back. John slammed his foot on the gas and sped down the street into open traffic. 

"Have you ever driven a car before?" Ringo asked him in a panic.

"You have to drive a car to learn to drive one," John pointed out, as he ran over a stop sign. he pulled onto the right side of the street, and then ended up on a curb. he pulled hard 

on the steering wheel and managed to get off it. "This thing doesn't go very fast."

"We have to at least go faster than them!" George pointed out, peering out the back windows at the four cop cars chasing them. "John, what do we do if we get caught?"

"We go to jail--Jesus, i am trying to drive, and i don't need you two asking obvious questions!" he shouted. he turned into an alley, just squeezing through. one cop car turned and 

followed this way too. he was okay until he tried to turn. there wasn't enough space between the buildings and the ambulance for him to move. he slammed his head on the 

steering wheel. "I can't do this," he cried. "i know that everyone said that it's fine, but i'm not everyone. i just don't think i can do it--and neither can George, right George?"

"Right!" John put his head on the steering wheel and sighed.

"I guess you were right. we can't put this off." Ringo sighed and then pushed John out of the driver's seat. 

"Just go sit back there with George, i'll fix this." John climbed over the seat and sat down next to George. he put his head in his knees. George squeezed his shoulders.

"Whatever happens, we won't be alone," he said to John, trying to smile. then there was a knocking at the door. John got up and peered through the window. the cop stood there, 

banging at the door. John waved to him. 

"Open this door!" he commanded. 

"We don't actually know how," John admitted.

"Tell your driver to exit the vehicle," he demanded. he turned around and tapped on Ringo's head. he was busy moving the steering wheel in various directions. 

"John, get him out of the way."

"I'm trying, but i was kind of hoping you'd get us out of here so we won't have to."

"I know, but i can't get us to go forward, and he's standing there so i can't go backwards."

"So...?"

"Get him out of the bloody way!" John quickly went back to the window. 

"Just come around," John ordered. Ringo glared at him from the front, but as soon as he realized what he was doing, he relaxed. 

"Step out of the vehicle," he demanded. 

"Sure, just one second." he grabbed the gear shift and pulled it backwards, and pushing the ambulance into reverse. it smashed into the cop car, and to all of their awe it started 

pushing it out of the alley and into open traffic.

"Oh God, if we kill anybody..." John fretted. Ringo put the sirens on and all traffic around them stopped. he turned sharply into the intersection and down the next street. in 

moments, they were on the freeway. 

"We'll leave from Manchester Airport. they'll never look for us there." John suggested. 

"Isn't that a bit far mate?" George asked.

"That's why they won't expect it. now take this route..." 

for about four hours, they drove north to Manchester. from there they flew to India. no one said a word the whole flight.


	21. Reckless, Moronic, and Idiotic Behavior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In India, John faces his consequences.

when they got to India they went straight to the nicest hotel they saw. once they got settled, John called Brian.

"You are such a reckless, moronic, and completely selfish person!" Brian shouted through the phone. John tried to hide his hurt at hearing Brian calling him that. 

"We did what we had to."

"What you had to?! fleeing the country is what you had to? John, you need that operation. it's crucial! you think i would've made you get it done the day after you diagnosis if i 

didn't need to. we're talking about a blood clot here. this isn't a joke. you need to come back immediately."

"I can't do it, Brian. not now, not yet. i swear i will, i can't now. okay?"

"You don't get to choose when you're sick. your health doesn't just decide to go away when it's most convienent to you. so your health can't wait until you're emotionally ready to 

get surgery, okay!" he argued.

"I'm fine, Brian, i'm fine! i feel fine! but you know what, if you put me through this before i'm ready than i won't be. it will fuck me up forever, and then there will be no fixing that."

"Your leg will be fucked up forever. just because you don't feel it doesn't mean that it isn't happening!"

"What can happen, Brian, really? because you never gave me any other options."

"What other options? you have a clot in your blood that is blocking off circulation in your leg."

"And if i don't fix it?"

"it can get infected, it can damage the circulation in your leg forever, and many, many other horrible things that you don't want to deal with, nor can you. and you don't have to 

John, just come back. please, i don't want to see anything happen to you."

"But you'll let some doctors cut me up?"

"If it'll save you, yes, i will. i know you think it's going to be hard, but it's not. what is it going to take to convince you?"

"A week. give me that."

"You don't have a week."

"If it gets bad, then i'll come back."

"John Winston, listen to me, you have four days--that is all i will allow you and i am being generous. if you do not return in that time i will come down to India myself and take you 

there."

"Thank you for understanding."

"I don't, but i honestly fighting with you is like fighting with a brick wall."

"Thank you."

"Don't even--never mind. just think about it, okay. really. i don't want to come there in four days and you're still haven't decided."

"In four days i'll be more ready than i am now. you can count on that." Brian sighed. 

"You really don't get it do you?"

"I get it, of course i get it! You think i won't try to get ready and that i'll try to push it back but you're wrong. i want to get better, i do."

"That's not what i meant. i just mean that i don't think you're ever going to be ready. not really. none of you are, but it's not like it matters." John wanted to respond to that but he 

just didn't know how. "Anyway, i'll take care of the bills and all of that. just enjoy your visit." And then the line cut off, leaving John in a stunned silence.


	22. A Semi-Cure--for 35 Pounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John visits a faith healer.

for four days, John, George, and Ringo hung out in India and avoided their problems. every day, Brian called them to make sure they were doing okay. John assured them that they were doing fine, even though none of them were. Ringo's mouth had started bothering him, and George's throat was too. as for John, his leg had started aching, but he didn't bother telling anyone.  
The day before they were supposed to leave India, John went to the front desk of the hotel and asked about faith healers. he told the front desk person that he had heard about them from a brochure and wanted to check it out. the front desk had given him an address, and John left without telling the others where he was going.   
he arrived by taxi at this faith healer an hour later, who lived just outside of the city--the name of which John did not know. the faith healer lived in a large hotel looking place, which was not what John had expected. inside, looked like pretty much every other hotel he had ever been in, except for small statues lining the walls and furniture. the woman at the front desk asked what his symptoms were, and he told her about his blood clot. he was then directed to the twentieth floor. when he got there he knocked on the first door on his right, as instructed, and when the door opened he was met with an unshaven man in a white dressing gown.   
"Are you the one with the blood clot?" he asked in a surprisingly good English. John nodded. the man ushered him inside, where John was told to sit on a rug. there was no other furniture in the room except for a table in the corner where more statues lied.   
"Are you English?" he asked him, and John nodded. "I've spent much time in England. Nice place. is that where this happened to you?" John nodded again. "Alright, then let's take a look." John gulped.   
"Um, do you have any medical training--"  
"I don't need it. i am connected with the Hindu God of healing, Ganesha. he will bring you strength and restore your health, but only for 35 pounds."  
"I left my wallet at the hotel," John replied, bewildered. "And, besides, i thought that this was free--"  
"Nothing in life is free. everything has a cost. you put good energy out to the universe, and it gives back to you. so you cannot expect the universe to cure your blood clot, if you don't give the universe something in return."  
"And the universe wants 35 dollars?" he asked suspiciously.   
"Pounds, son, not dollars. dollars are worth less. haven't you heard?" John looked at him skeptically.  
"Can you heal me or not, sir?"  
"I can heal you, but only if you--"  
"Give you 35 pounds, i know, i know!" he retorted, his voice rising.  
"The universe will give you nothing if you shout that way. now, in order to do this, you must be in a state of calm."  
"And to give you 35 pounds."  
"Precisely." John stood up, was about to walk out of the room, felt a sharp pain in his leg and then sat back down. "What made you come to me, son?"  
"I am flying back to England tomorrow. i'm supposed to get this fixed, but i can't go through with it. i'm too..."  
"Afraid?"  
"Precisely," he answered quietly.   
"You see, sir, your problem is not in the body but in the mind."  
"I'm pretty sure i have a blood clot. they ran tests and every--"  
"Oh you do, of course, but that is not you're obstacle. you're obstacle is your fear."  
"My fear?"  
"All of which is up here," he pointed to John's head, "and once you get over that, you will be cured of your condition." John considered that.   
"But how?" he asked worriedly.   
"Focus. focus on what makes you afraid then repeat the mantra, this cannot harm me, until you feel able to face your fears." he gave him a look of realization.  
"I can do this?" he asked surprised.  
"Of course you can. just focus."  
"Focus got it." John stood up and was about to leave the room when the healer stopped him.   
"Now you must focus on getting me my 35 pounds." John quickly pulled out a pen and a scrap of paper, signed it and handed it to him. "Here, it's worth at least 50," and then raced out of there, his leg killing him.


	23. It's Going to Be Fine--I Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys journey home

that night, George, Ringo, and John sat in a circle on the floor of their hotel room. in a few hours, they were going to be taken to the airport and then when they land they will be 

taken to the hospital. they each felt this dread, even John, who had already decided to use the plane trip to focus on his fears. 

"Well, this time tomorrow it'll all be over," George mused. 

"Yeah, after all of this," John added. 

"And onto pain--in my case."

"Do you really wanna go back, though?" Gorge asked like he already knew the answer.

"I'm not eager to," Ringo admitted, "But we have. if anything for this one." he gestured to John.

"What about me?" John asked a bit annoyed. "i'm just fine," he insisted. 

"You have a limp," George pointed out. "We know that you're clot is bothering you and you need to take care of it, like Brian said!"

"I am," John insisted, "But don't make this all about me."

"Wait, you're just going to go back willingly? after all of this?" John considered that. even if the focus thing works that doesn't mean there's some realism to his fears, and that is 

not something that can be cured with a mantra. he closed his eyes, trying to focus, trying to push out what has been haunting him for over a week. he put himself in the operating 

room, imagining the tools lined up for him. he imagined a doctor putting him under, but he could still picture what would happen afterwards. he pictured his doctor cutting open 

his leg, as she described, and he had stop there. he opened his eyes and he was hyperventilating. he tried the mantra but it didn't work. he didn't believe it. 

"Ringo, tell me honestly, can this harm me?" he pleaded. 

"It's possible," he admitted, "But, honestly, after what Brian told me, i doubt that you will. it's a pretty standard procedure, and the risks involved don't have much to do with what's 

going to happen. if i were you, i'd just get it over with."

"If i do this, will you two do it too?"

"Of course," George replied, squeezing his hand. "We'll always have you're back." 

the following morning they flew home and were picked up at the airport by Brian. As soon as they saw Brian, they all spun around and ran in the opposite direction. Brian chased 

after them. as they were running, Ringo asked, "Why are you guys running?"

"Same reason you are," John replied dryly. they ran into a nearby loo, squeezing into the only open stall. John stood on the toilet, while George stood on the ground holding him 

up. Ringo pressed himself against the door, holding it closed. 

they heard footsteps enter the bathroom, and Ringo peaked under the stall, recognizing them as the leather boots that Brian often wears. 

"I know you're in there," he said darkly.

"Don't. open. the. door," John commanded. 

"I have come as a sort of parley. i will make you a peaceful offer, and you will oblige. deal?" 

"Will you take us to that prison?" John asked sharply.

"That's part of the deal. you see, you give me five minutes alone with each of you, each granting me that time to speak openly about the current situation, and i will let you decide 

your fate, though if you're fate is to take you to that 'prison,' than that i shall," he answered business-like. 

"What happens if we don't take the deal?" John demanded.

"Then, i will carry you out of this airport kicking and screaming and straight to the hospital, where you will immediately be put under, no break in between. and for John, that 

means no last chance to talk to Paul." John's eyes widened. he looked at his friends who both nodded.

"Alright, we'll do it," he agreed. Brian smiled slyly. 

"Who's first?" John and George pushed Ringo out of the stall who stared up at him fearfully. they heard Brian say, "Come with me, it won't take long." Ringo moved slowly out of the 

bathroom, a horrified expression on his face. George looked at John anxiously.

"Do we go?" he asked desperately.

"You heard him. it's our one chance at getting what we want." John was starting to sweat and his leg ached horribly. he shivered. "Do you think we could go somewhere warmer?" 

he asked, continuing to shiver. 

"Aren't you hot? its like being in an oven in here," George replied. John felt like he couldn't balance any longer and gripped onto George's shoulder for support. he helped him 

down, taking Ringo's former position. "What's the matter?"

"I'm fine," he insisted. he faced the door so George wouldn't see the pain in his eyes. "Can i sit down?" he sat down on the toilet lid, focusing on his breathing. 

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, Brian will be back soon. i'll be fine," he insisted.


	24. Incentives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian tries to convince the boys to come back to the hospital with him.

Outside of the bathroom, Ringo and Brian sat down at an empty terminal. for the whole first minute, Brian told him about how he expected better of Ringo, how he had 

experience, and how he was actually sane. 

"I didn't expect it either," Ringo admitted. "But i just got so god damn scared all of a sudden." 

"It's alright, i understand. you're afraid of the pain."

"And the pliers," Ringo interjected.

"And the pliers." Brian continued, "Were you ever afraid of any dental procedures before?"

"No, but that was before John got me all...wired up."

"Ringo, do yourself a favor and don't listen to John--especially about the dentist. he's scared shitless of the dentist, and it's all in his head, so don't buy it, okay."

"But is it coming from anywhere? you know, that fear?"

"Not that i know of. at least not with this. you're case is nothing like John experienced or your other brothers have--so don't listen to them."

"So who do i listen to?" 

"Me!" Brian suggested. Ringo looked at him skeptically.

"But you haven't done it either."

"But i have talked to Dr. Riley, and he assures me of your safety." Ringo sighed. 

"Alright, i guess i can just get it over with." Brian smiled.

"Thank you. now get me George." 

inside the loo, George pressed his ear against the stall door while John sat on the toilet lid. Just then, Ringo came into the bathroom and knocked on their stall door. “George, he 

wants to see you.” George flashed a nervous look at John, who mouthed, ‘go on.’ He was in too much pain to speak. 

George timidly walked up to Brian, sitting down on the edge of one of the chairs. Brian put his arm around him, pulling him in close. George wouldn’t look at him. 

“Are you in pain?” Brian asked him. George shook his head, lying. “Now, I think you’ve heard enough times that surgery won’t be bad. Am I right?” he nodded, even if he didn’t 

believe it. “But, consider this. If you get this, regardless of what it’s like, you will never have to worry about your tonsils again. No more ‘curse.’ No more birthday cases of 

tonsillitis. And do you want to know the best part?”

“Ice cream.”

“In addition to ice cream,” he continued, “no more missing shows or lip syncing during shows because of your tonsils. Don’t you see? It has perks.”

“Perks? Like the ice cream?”

“Like the ice cream.” George smiled at that. 

“I guess, it’ll be nice not getting sick around my birthday anymore.” 

“That’s the idea,” Brian told him, shaking his shoulders a little bit. “Now, send over John.”

“Um, that might be a problem.”

“Why?” Brian demanded.

“John can barely walk. His leg is—“ Brian dashed out of the terminal and into the bathroom. He tried prying open the stall door, but when it didn’t budge he yelled, “John, open this 

door.” Ringo opened it for him and left them alone in the bathroom. John was sitting on the toilet seat, tears in his eyes. “John,” he whispered, kneeling down next to him. He 

stroked his hair. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but…”

“I was an idiot,” he whispered. “A fucking idiot. I shouldn’t have left. I’m so—“ his breath got caught in his throat. “Can you forgive me?”

“Already done,” he replied soothingly, squeezing his hand. “Do you want me to call an ambu—“

“I didn’t…” he gasped. “Say yes yet.” Brian stared at him incredulously.

“John, you’re in pain,” he pointed out. “You need to get this fixed.”

“Tell me one thing first. Can they hurt me? I mean really, can they?” Brian sighed and took both of his hands.

"Not in the way that you think. no matter what, you'll be put under, and the pain and the horrible things that are going to happen while you are, aren't going to hurt you. can 

something go wrong? of course, but you can't focus on that or you'll never do it. and do you know what will? not doing it." John considered this and then cried harder, putting his 

head up against the stall wall. 

“I’m really fucking scared.”

“I know. I would be too.” John looked at him in surprise. “It’s true, but I would do it. and do you know what, I think you would too.”

“Then why haven’t I done it already?” John demanded, still crying. “Then why am I such a coward?”

“You’re not a coward. You just took a detour because you’re a—“

“Selfish moronic, and what else was it?”

“Reckless,” Brian added quietly.

“Yeah, a reckless moronic selfish person. and a fucking coward.”

“You’re not any of those things. I was just mad at you because you did an incredibly reckless, moronic, and selfish thing. But that’s not you. None of this has been you.”

“Then what is?”

“Just facing your fears. It’s that simple, John. It’s what you’ve always done, and I have no doubt that you can do it now.” He reassured him. He stroked his hair. “You’re better than 

this.” John closed his eyes and a tear streamed down his face. Then he looked at Brian fearfully. 

“I’ll do it. just let me see Paul first, please,” he begged. Brian hugged him, a few tears falling down his face.


	25. You Just Had to Be O Negative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They make it to the hospital and Paul's involvement in all of this increases.

Brian picked John up and carried him to the car. George and Ringo rushed to follow him. ten minutes later, they arrived at the hospital, and Brian carried John in.

"You really don't have to do that," John told him.

"Yes, i really do. i'm not risking you walking." 

John and George were dropped off at their rooms, while Ringo went to the waiting room, where Paul was waiting.

"You're back!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around him. "Where's John?"

"In his room," Brian answered for him. "And you can't see him yet. the doctors have to get him settled, and then he will see you."

"Um, when are they going to...?" Paul asked nervously. 

"About an hour from now. they want to do it as soon as possible. they might go sooner if they can." Paul sucked in a sharp breath. Brian hugged him. "He's going to be fine," he 

soothed. "He's really ready now. i know it." Paul sniffled, squeezing him harder. 

"I'm so scared for him," he sobbed.

"Me too," Brian whispered. 

"And George?" Ringo interjected.

"He'll be fine. they're going to take him when they take John in."

"So soon?" Ringo asked worriedly. "He needs more ti--"

"He's had a lot of time," he reminded him, "he chose this, remember that." 

just then, a nurse came into the waiting room and called for Brian. he left Paul and Ringo alone again, who were both fretting. 

"Tell me, Ringo," Paul demanded, "What are they going to do to my John?"

"Just make a few incisions, cut out the blood clot, and sew him back up. nothing too complex," Ringo replied. "And, George..." he stared blankly in front of him, his eyes wide. 

"They won't have to do much either...nothing serious," he continued mechanically. "Excuse me, i have to--" he dashed out of the bathroom and to the loo. Paul sat in silence. 

a few moments later, Brian emerged, looking sympathetic. he knelt down in front of Paul and stroked his hair. "Sweetie, i have to ask something of you, that i know you're going to 

resent, i know it's going to scare you, and i know it's going to hurt." Paul looked up at him in fear. 

"What?" he asked timidly. "What could be so horrible..." his voice trembled along with his hands. 

"John is going to need a blood transfusion during the surgery, due to the loss of blood. the problem is, that he has a rare blood type--O negative. the hospital doesn't have any in 

stock." Paul gasped, his lip quivering. "But, it's going to be alright, because we can get some."

"Where?" Paul asked fearfully. Brian squeezed the crook of his elbow. 

"You have the same blood type--i checked when you were supposed to get blood work done, and i was going through your file. you are O negative, and you are also John's only 

hope," he pleaded. There were tears in Paul's eyes. 

he closed them and tilted his head up, tears streaming down his face. 

"How fast can we do it?" he replied tearfully, but strongly. Brian smiled in relief. he hugged Paul and kissed his head. 

"Thank you so much. i promise you that i will repay you in some way."

"You don't have to. really. it's John...you know i'd do anything for him--even if it involves," he gulped, "needles." Brian stroked his hair. 

"Are you sure you don't want ice cream?"

"Yes, obviously i want ice cream." they both smiled. then Paul took a deep breath and said, "Ready?"


	26. Blood Will Be Drawn (but only for you, sweetie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul gives blood and John reunites with him.

five minutes later, Paul sat in a blood lab upstairs. Brian was kneeling next to him, and a nurse was wiping down the crook of Paul's elbow with rubbing alcohol. 

"How big is it?" Paul asked the nurse. she indicated with her fingers about four inches. Paul thought he'd faint.

"If it makes you feel any better, the needle John's getting is about six inches." that didn't make Paul feel better. he grimaced at the thought of his best mate getting a needle that 

large. "And besides, they're not going to stick the whole thing in. it's like Novocain." That didn't make Paul feel better either. 

"Novocain hurts," he pointed out. 

"But not for long, right?" Paul nodded begrudgingly. "And you'll be fine," he replied, squeezing his left hand. 

"Okay, we're ready," the nurse announced. Paul flinched and then looked up at Brian desperately. Brian shushed him, stroking his hair. 

"You'e okay. You're okay," he repeated soothingly. Paul squeezed Brian's hand really hard. 

"Do you want me to tell you when?" the nurse asked.

"Uh-uh, i don't know, maybe, i guess--but actually i don't know--can you just wait--ow!" the nurse stuck him with the needle and he jerked his arm away. his arm bled a little bit.

"I'm going to start over again," she announced. "Don't move this time." she gripped his arm tightly as she prepared another needle. Paul stared at Brian, his lip quivering a little bit.

"Sweetie," he soothed, rotating his thumb across Paul's hand, "You are going to be just fine."

"Brian, can i confess something to you?"

"Of course you can, honey."

"I think i'd rather get surgery than this," he admitted shyly. Brian awed and stroked his cheek. 

"Paul, hon, if you had to get surgery you'd still have to do this. not to mention the IVs. plus, George had to get an immunization in his prep. trust me, surgery is not without it's 

faults. even if it does seem easier since you sleep through the bad part. really, you're the lucky one," he explained. Paul considered that and sighed. 

"So, we all have to suffer?" he asked worriedly. 

"No, none of you are truly suffering. i wouldn't let that happen to you. You're each experiencing some mild unpleasantries, and that's it. it's discomfort that you're about to 

experience, and same with your brothers, and each isn't experiencing it for very long. trust me, you are all going to be okay, and i mean it one-hundred-percent when i say that." 

Paul sighed in relief at that, almost smiling.

"Okay, are we ready?" the nurse asked again, holding up the four-inch needle. Paul gulped, but braced himself, keeping his arm still, his head back, and squeezing his eyes shut. 

Brian squeezed Paul's left hand and kept his other hand on Paul's shoulder. 

"I love you," Brian whispered in his ear as the nurse penetrated Paul's skin with the needle. Paul gasped, keeping his eyes shut. he buried his head in Brian's shoulder, holding back 

tears. Brian stroked his hair and shushed him soothingly. 

the nurse adjusted the needle, then taped it down. finally, she announced, "You're set. all you have to do is wait for the bag to fill up." she got up and monitored the clear plastic 

bag that was slowly filling with Paul's blood. it was thankfully behind Paul's head--if it wasn't he probably would've thrown up. 

Brian kissed Paul's head, and told him it was safe to open his eyes. "Just don't look down," he instructed. he still held onto Paul's hand firmly. "You still feel it?" he asked 

concernedly. Paul shook his head and Brian smiled in relief. 

The nurse told him that it'd be about thirty minutes, and Paul groaned. Brian assured him that all would be fine, and he just had to relax. 

"Think of it this way, in a half an hour, your part will be done, and the only thing you'll have to do is wait for your brothers." Paul considered that and relaxed. 

about halfway through, John came into the doorway wielding a cane and in a dressing gown. he waved to Paul and smiled weakly. 

"John, are you supposed to be here?" Brian asked concernedly.

"They told me i could come." his voice was weak. "Hi, Paul," he greeted sweetly, "How're you feeling?" Paul shrugged.

"Okay, i guess," he replied, his voice also weak, but a little stronger than John's. "You?" John shrugged.

Eh. "I'm getting cut open in an hour, so...there's that." they exchanged a small smile.

"You still scared?"

"Are you still a baby deer?" John asked knowingly. Paul smirked. "Thank you, by the way. this is the nicest thing you could've done for me--ever--and i will forever be in your 

debt."

"I missed you."

"I missed you too." the hugged carefully. "Anyway, i should go. i can barely stand, even with this thing." he gestured to his cane. "Isn't this ridiculous? i feel like an old man." Paul 

chuckled. "I love you."

"i love you too." they hugged again, and John kissed Paul's forehead. he tried to smile but it came out as more of an awkward frown. "See you soon." he called meekly, slowly and 

feebly leaving the room.

"Soon," Paul whispered after he left. he bit his lip and looked away, not saying anything for a while.

finally, after the half-hour was up, the nurse gently pulled the needle out, and Paul sighed in relief, his whole body relaxing. 

"You did well," Brian congratulated, patting him on the back. "I'm proud of you." Paul tried to smile as Brian helped him up. "What's the matter?"

"It's happening soon, and..." he stopped, unable to speak. Brian hugged him.

"Hey, they're going to be alright. You'll see. in a few hours, this whole thing will be over, and you won't even remember why everyone was so worked up." Paul nodded tearfully. 

"I don't want them to go," he cried.

"i know," Brian replied, hugging him again. "i know."


	27. Saying Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul has let John go (just for a little while).

meanwhile, John lied in his room alone. his doctor had already made her final checks, and had announced that he was completely ready for surgery. the only thing left to do was 

transfer him there, and John's only thoughts were about his very fast-coming doom--or what he interpreted as doom. never had he come this close. he was minutes away from 

facing his greatest fear, and the only thing he had to combat it was advice from a spiritual Indian man. he figured it was worth a shot, so he closed his eyes, pictured himself once 

again on the operating table, saw his doctor cutting open his leg, and the image of it scared him so much that he almost started crying. he quickly stopped himself, forcing 

himself to think about something else. he thought about Paul; how pale he had looked in that chair, with the blood draining from his arm and into a bag full of his blood. John had 

shuddered. when it was his turn, they hadn't taken that much out of him. he could only imagine how Paul had taken it. not well, he had presumed. the thought of Paul having to 

face his worse nightmare, upset him so much that it made him queasy. but before he could pull his thoughts away, the man appeared at his door, pale faced and looking queasy 

himself: Paul McCartney. 

"Paul," he whispered. "I was right...to come here?"

"You were right, about a lot of things," he said. "Like how lucky i was and how scary all of this is." he sat down next to John on his bed. "I can't tell you how scared i am for you," he 

whispered. 

"I'll be fine, really," he insisted, but he didn't really mean it. he looked into Paul's big doe eyes and continued, "You know what, i am scared, and i understand why you are too. this 

is the scariest thing i have ever experienced, and probably ever will. i am terrified for my life, and i am scared for my friends. i don't think this day could be any worse," he 

confessed. "But, it's not going to change, and i will get through it. no matter what. and so will you."

"But if something happens--even if it's small, even if you don't feel pain--it's going to be so hard to cope with."

"I know, but just remember that, whatever happens, it's not forever. i will wake up from this surgery and i will walk out of this hospital--soon--and you and i will have a day all to 

ourselves, and we won't worry about surgery or needles. we'll just be happy. i promise you, that day will come, but in order to get there." John paused, a lump forming in his 

throat, "we have to get through this god-forsaken day--together." his voice was thick. he took Paul's hands and kissed them both.

"It still hurts."

"I know, but the pain will end soon." Paul wrapped his arms around him and hugged him for some time. 

after a few minutes, a nurse came into the room. "It's time, Mr. Lennon," she announced. John looked at Paul, all of the fear that he had been feeling was in his eyes.

"Go, it's okay," Paul told him tearfully. "I'll be okay, really," he insisted. "Just take care of yourself, please." John nodded tearfully, a sob escaping his lips. "Tell me one more time," 

he suddenly begged, "how you feel."

"Oh, Paulie," he stroked his hair. "I love you more."

"i love you more too." they shared a strained smile. Paul's lip quivered. he squeezed John's hands one last time before the nurse put him onto a gurney. she pushed him out of the 

room and Paul followed. "I'll be right out here!" he yelled as she pushed him down the hallway. tears streamed down his face as he sobbed openly. Brian over to him, taking him 

into his arms and holding him, crying with him.


	28. Don't Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's George's turn, and Ringo comforts him while he waits.

inside of George's room, Ringo and George laid together. 

"I heard them take John," Ringo commented. 

"I guess it's my turn," George replied, horrified. 

"Look, whatever they do to you in there, it's only here." he pointed to his throat. "It's not here," he pointed to his head. "Remember that." George hugged him tightly. "I never 

wanted this to happen to you--any of you. it's not bad, but it's not easy either, and i just..." his voice seemed to get caught in his throat.

"Wait, you're scared too?" George asked, shocked. 

"Shouldn't I be?" He responded. "I mean, I am the only one that knows what it's like."

"But you said that there was nothing to be afraid of," George countered. 

"I know, but that doesn't mean that I'm not still at least a little bit..." he sighed, "Think of it this way, I know that you both are going to be okay in the end, but I also know what 

they're going to have to do to get you there." He grimaced. "Look, I think you're aware of what's scary about this and what's safe, so don't even worry about what I think. Just 

concentrate on getting through this." George nodded and closed his eyes, breathing sharp, shallow breaths. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he was taken into the 

operating room as well, and that thought was only making it harder for him to breathe. 

"Ringo, tell me one thing," he gasped. 

"What's that?"

"Will it be worth it?" Ringo smiled and squeezed his hand. 

"When we know longer have to feed you broth and crackers on your birthday eve, it'll totally be worth it." They both smiled a little. 

"And at least i get ice cream," George tried a little uncertainly. The perks that Brian had spoken about were nice, but that didn't cure his fear. he didn't think anything could, but he 

knew, somewhere in his heart, that Ringo was right. It would be okay, and it would be worth it. At least, he hoped. 

"Hey, Ringo, how did you get through it the first time?" He asked suddenly, his breathing starting to go back to normal.

"i was put out before i even processed what happened. but there were a few minutes before where i did start to figure out what was happening."

"What you'd do?" George asked concernedly. 

"I didn't think about it--at least i tried to. once i was in the O.R it was hard to escape, but when i was taken in there, all i could think about was what i always thought about--ice 

cream, toys, and westerns." George smiled at that.

"And that's all?" he asked a little disappointed. "Not thinking?"

"What else is there?" Ringo asked honestly. "I mean, really, what do you want me to tell you? to think about how much this will benefit you--which it will--to remind you that 

you've had this coming for a long time, and once it's over you'll never have to worry again--which it definitely will--and that you have faced fears before that have seemed equally 

as important, and in the end, turned out fine--which is true. really, what do you need me to say?" George grinned and hugged him, kissing his cheeks a couple of times. "What?" 

Ringo asked innocently. "What did i say?"

"Thank you. i think i might," he gulped, "Be able to do this." Ringo smiled. 

"That's all i wanted to hear." they embraced.

A nurse came into the room a minute later, and announced that George was ready. George started hyperventilating again. Ringo squeezed his hand tightly. Still panicking, George 

turned to Ringo and told him, "If i don't see you before the you know--" he mimed 

pulling out a tooth--"then remember that you won't die either--just suffer a bit." he patted him on the shoulder. "See you on the other side?"

"Yeah," Ringo replied sadly, "The other side." He watched sadly as the nurse pulled George out of the room. Once he was gone he fell onto the bed in tears. He kept whispering, 

"Really? George? you're going to do this to George?" he eventually sobbed so hard that he could no longer speak.


	29. Nothing Can Harm Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finally faces his fear.

in Operating Room One, John lied on the operating table. everything that he had ever imagined--and then some--was in front of him. the hard metal table that he laid on, the IV in his arm, even the light that hung over him, shining too brightly in his face. a row of doctors and another row of nurses stood over him. his main doctor stood the closest to him. she   
was in scrubs, latex gloves, protective eye wear, and a surgical mask. the last two scared him surprisingly more than he thought. he looked passed them to a table full of surgical   
tools. he saw several knives, and many other sharp objects. he had to remind himself that none of it will be used when he's conscious of it, but they still freaked him out. his   
breathing sped.

"You okay?" she asked him. he nodded, but he didn't mean it. "I'm glad that you're finally doing this. it's really important that you get this taken care of."

"I know," he admitted. "I know, how important it is--now--just don't make this bad." she smiled under her mask.

"i won't. i can assure you that it will be very, very far from bad." he tried to be relieved, but he was still afraid. "Now, are we ready?" he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

"Nothing can harm me," he whispered very quietly over and over again. as he did, he pictured her picking up one of the knives and cutting into his leg, but this time, he didn't need to stop it. as much as it scared him, he could see himself with his eyes closed, completely oblivious to it all. and completely okay. he opened his eyes. "Okay, i am ready." his doctor gave him a reassuring smile, as one of the doctors put a mask over his face. that doctor told him to take deep breaths, and as he did he started to feel dizzy. 

"You're going to feel a prick, and then you'll be asleep very fast," one of the nurses said, as a needle slipped into his arm. it was the first of the series of needles that really bothered him. he tried not to cringe, but was unsuccessful. 

"Just relax," his doctor told him. "You'll be done soon, and once it's done, it is over." the drugs started to take over his body, and he, very reluctantly, let go, his eyes shutting and his thoughts fading out. inside his head, his mind drifting into a calm dream, while on the outside, everything that had pictured before became reality, and he didn't care.


	30. An Idiotic Sweetheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George makes a rash decision.

Out in the waiting room, Paul laid weeping in Brian's lap, while Brian stroked his back. he sung softly to him, soothing him. Ringo sat next to them, quiet tears rolling down his cheeks. he was holding one of Brian's hands.   
a nurse walked up to them and announced, "Mr. Lennon's surgery has begun." Paul closed his eyes and cried harder. 

"Please," he sobbed, "Tell me," he continued to weep, "he's not in pain."

"He's asleep," Ringo reassured him, his voice seeming far away, as did his eyes, "He's probably more at peace than he's been in days."

"You think?" Paul asked hopefully. 

"I wouldn't doubt it." Brian kissed both of their heads. 

"John is very strong. i'm sure whatever's going on now, he can handle it." They both looked at him incredulously. "It's true. We wouldn't be sitting here if he wasn't." they both 

considered that and then nodded. 

"As long as he's okay," Paul replied wearily, his sobs had slowed down. 

"And you are?" Ringo asked skeptically. 

"Yes," Paul insisted, sniffling and sitting up straight, "I am." Ringo and Brian took him at his word, but still held onto him anyway. 

Inside of Operating Room 2, George laid on the table with his mouth open. a doctor stuck a tube in his mouth.

"Now normally this operation is done with local anesthetic--" a doctor explained while George's eyes widened, "But your manager advised us against it. So you'll be getting general 

anesthetic." he pointed to an IV a nurse was adjusting. "Deep breaths," he reminded him. 

"Will i be asleep?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes, you will be in a very deep, deep sleep." George gulped. "Now, are you ready?" George thought about what Ringo had said and what Brian had said. he thought about Ringo, 

how scared he had looked when George mimed pulling teeth. he had remembered the way that Ringo had held his hand at the ENT. he remembered how much it helped.

"Doctor, i promise you that i will be back, but there's something i have to do first," he announced suddenly, jumping off the table and dashing out of the operating room. one of 

the nurses chased after him, but he was much faster.

he ran through the halls in only his dressing gown, hoping no one would have a camera or that he'd run into any fans.

he raced into the waiting room where he found Paul and Ringo leaning on Brian's shoulder. when they saw him their eyes widened. Brian stood up and took his shoulders and 

shook him.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. "They told me you were already up there. how are you down here? how?" he leaned in and said into his ear, "What about the deal? the ice 

cream? the birthdays?"

"I'm going back," he insisted. "But, i just kept thinking about Rings, and how he's about to get teeth ripped out of his head. it's really awful, when you think about it." Ringo 

cringed.

"But, why are you down here?" Brian asked again.

"Did you see John?" Paul demanded. George sighed. 

"i saw the back of his head for like a second."

"Did you see any...?" Paul asked. he shook his head. 

"i could see some of the doctors, but not what they were doing."

"More importantly, what are you doing here?" Brian wanted to know. 

"I want to go with Ringo. i want to be there for him, the way he's always been there for me." Brian stared at George in awe. He couldn't decide if he was an idiot or sweet. Ringo   
awed and hugged him. Paul hugged him too.

"i missed you, buddy," Paul into his ear. "I was scared for you, really." 

"Thanks. Hey, i heard what you did--that was awesome."

"It didn't feel awesome," Paul muttered.

"Can we focus?" Brian interjected. "George, you can't just walk out of the hospital. You need to go back upstairs and finish this."

"This can wait. you said so yourself."

"Yes, but--"

"It's not like John's case. i know that. and i also know that the only reason i'm going so soon is so i can go with him," he asserted. "And besides, it's not like i haven't already 

walked out of the hospital," he pointed out. Brian sighed and contemplated this for a while. in the meantime, Ringo and George hugged very tightly. Ringo told him how grateful 

he was for him, and Paul interjected that he was so grateful that George wasn't midway suffering right then. 

"I can't think about you that way," Paul told him. "You're my little brother, and my little brother isn't supposed to have organs sliced out of him."

"Paul...please, spare us the gory details right now," Brian added while he was midway deciding George's fate. 

"S'okay, i've been hearing about all of that for a while."

"How were you holding up? you know, in there?" Ringo asked concernedly. 

"Oh...it was very...um...intense."

"Did you see anything?" Paul asked anxiously. George shook his head.

"A nurse was standing in the way. i did catch a glimpse at that needle." he shuddered. "You got off easy," he told Paul.

"Told you," Brian muttered.

"Wait, does that mean John really did get a big needle?" Paul asked anxiously.

"I'm sure he was fine," Ringo answered reassuringly. "You're already starting to drift by then, anyway."

"Drift?" Paul asked worriedly. "Drift how?"

"You start to fade out from the drugs. You're already on stuff before they put the real stuff in."

"Real stuff?"

"The anesthesia. They do it through an IV?" George and Paul both looked at him in surprise. "You didn't know that. well, it's true, and trust me, you go out fast."

"Which is why we are all going to stop worrying about this," Brian interjected. "Now, after giving it a lot of thought, and considering how close both of you are, i think that it might 

be best if George goes with Ringo." they all cheered. "But, you are coming straight here after it is done, and you are going right up to that operating room as soon as possible. no 

more delays."


	31. We'll Go, But First...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Ringo's turn. George helps out.

"Alright, let's head out." he started to go when he noticed that no one was following him. "What's wrong now?" they all stared at him, frozen. "Paul, your first. why aren't you going?"  
"I don't want to leave John here by himself. i promised him that i'd be here."  
"Okay, that's fine, stay here. are you okay staying here by yourself?" he nodded. "You know what, i'd better call Mal." he raced to the phone, called their roadie and raced back. "He'll be here in fifteen. just hang tight." then he turned to the other two. "George, you volunteered, so you should be going."  
"I'm waiting for him."   
"Fair point. Ringo, why aren't you moving?"  
"I don't want my teeth ripped out," he replied nervously.  
"Aw, Ringo," Brian replied, hugging him. "It's okay. i know you're scared, but you can get through this. You're gonna have George with you, so that helps right?" he nodded. "Okay, so what's the problem?"  
"I still don't want to go." Brian sighed and gripped his shoulders.   
"The sooner you do this, the sooner you never have to do this ever again," he reminded him. "And the sooner we fix him," he added softly. Ringo flashed a look at his best mate.  
"I don't want him hurt."  
"He won't be. you of all people should know that."  
"Which is why i'm worried. It's intense in there."  
"It's also fast--and necessary. so, please, Ringo," he shook him a little, "Be strong--for him." he flashed another look at George. he remembered how sick he was on his birthday and he cringed.  
"Okay, i'll do it. but promise me one thing."  
"Sure, anything."  
"Promise that that i won't feel it when they come out. please. make sure i'm numb and everything. please." Brian hugged him.   
"I will make sure that you are very numb," he reassured. "Now, are we ready?" Ringo nodded, and the three of them left.   
they arrived at Dr. Riley's office ten minutes later. he was in the waiting room waiting for them. "Hi Ringo--and George." he said into Brian's ear, "i thought he was getting his tonsils removed. it was on the radio and everything."  
"He's stalling," Brian whispered back. "So, can we just go in?"  
"Are you ready, Ringo?" Dr. Riley asked him. he flinched and then nodded.   
"Sure, come on, George." he pulled George inside of his office and sat down in the chair. he closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was in an operating room. it almost worked if it weren't for the nurse who stuck a tube in his mouth and told him to spit. George sat next to him, squeezing the hell out of his hand.  
"What do you think they do?" George asked quickly and anxiously.   
"It's a small incision in your gum line, followed by the removal of your tooth from your bones, and finally your teeth from your mouth," the nurse explained. Ringo cringed. "Oh, you won't feel it." Ringo was skeptical.  
Just then, Dr. Riley walked in wearing a surgical mask and holding a syringe. he sat down next to Ringo and started setting up the tools on the tray. Ringo looked away. after a few minutes, Dr. Riley announced that they were ready.   
"Are you ready?" Dr. Riley asked, directing the syringe at his open mouth.   
"Are you?" George asked anxiously. Ringo looked at his best mate, tried to think of his terrible birthday, and took a deep breath.  
"I am ready." he closed his eyes as he felt the syringe go past his mouth and into his arm.  
"What are you doing?" he asked sleepily.   
"You don't want to do this awake, do you?" He smiled in relief and let his body succumb to the drugs.  
once he was out, Dr. Riley told George, "This is going to get gory. i mean, there is going to be a lot of freaky stuff going on, and i know that you're already not a fan of the dentist, so it's best if you wait in the waiting room."  
"But i made him a promise."  
"Well, he's not going to know the difference."  
"But i promised," George insisted. he held onto Ringo's hand tighter. "i wouldn't have come if it didn't need me." Dr. Riley sighed in resignation.  
"Close your ears and shut your eyes. this isn't going to be easy." George did as he said while still holding onto Ringo's hand.


	32. Hold Me Tight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Paul waits for the others he makes a rash decision.

Back in the hospital, Paul sat wrapped in Mal Evan's embrace, his body trembling. "It's John, isn't it?" he asked him. 

"It's everyone. It's everybody but me. Don't you get it, Mal? I'm the only one not getting operated on. do you know how bad i feel? it's so hard for me to sit here while brothers suffer," he whined. 

"Paul, it's not your fault that you don't need surgery. You can't control that. And besides, isn't that a good thing? i thought you'd be relieved that you don't need it."

"If the others didn't, but know what i know i just feel so..."

"I know, it's awful thinking about they're going through, but don't ever feel guilty for something you have absolutely no control over. i'm sure your friends don't mind, and i think they'd prefer it if you didn't. there ought to be one Beatle not hurting right now."

"I'm going to hurt no matter what, Mal. and besides, it doesn't matter what the others prefer. it's about what i want, and what i want i can't have and it just--" he bit his lip and cried. "It's so painful. did you know that? i can't stop thinking about John. that i haven't even come close to experiencing what he has. and i'm so afraid that i never will." Mal rubbed his shoulders and held him close.

"Honey, what John experienced while he was conscious was no more than you have ever experienced. the only thing he had that was different was an MRI."

"A what?" Paul asked hopefully.

"It's a full body scan. Brian was telling me that he had to get one--"

"How do i get one?" Paul demanded.

"You don't need--"

"How. Do i. Get. One?" he demanded slower. 

"I'll talk to the receptionist i'll find out," Mal replied, caving in. "But it's only a scan, and that is it!" Paul smiled in relief. 

five minutes later, Paul was taken up to have an MRI. he was confident as he laid on the table in just a paper gown. a nurse got him situated and then told him that he was ready. he smiled and said, "very ready." she smiled back and hit the appropriate buttons. he heard a low buzzing sound. he closed his eyes and relaxed for the first time since George's birthday. 

when it was over, he was about to go back out to the waiting room, satisfied, when the technician stopped him. 

"Mr. McCartney, i've been examining your results, and it is quite clear that you have an ulcer."

"A...a what?" 

"An ulcer it's a--"

"I know what an ulcer is, but how can i have..." his voice dropped to a whisper. 

"I'm sorry, sir, but you're going to need an operation." Paul went pale. "Sir?" he shook his head, tears in his eyes.

"I can't," he repeated softly. "I just can't."

"Sir, if you don't take care of your ulcer it could really hurt you. it's at an early stage, but i still suggest you take care of it as soon as possible." he felt like he was going to``pass   
out. 

"H-how soon?" he stammered. 

"I would say right away. it's best if we don't leave these things." he started hyperventilating. "I'll have a nurse get you situated, and a surgeon will be by in about an hour." he felt   
like he was going to throw up. 

"Only an hour?" he asked fearfully.

"Actually, it should be less than that. the surgeon in charge is available today, so as soon as he's ready, they'll take you." Paul whimpered.

a nurse came in, "Ready?" she asked him. he started crying.


	33. End of Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ringo wakes up and Paul deals with the consequences of his actions.

A few blocks down, in Dr. Riley's office. Ringo slowly woke up, with George and Brian staring at him. they were all trying to smile. Ringo's face was swollen and he had cotton his mouth. 

"Rings," George called, "You okay?" Ringo opened his eyes and smiled.

"You're still here," he replied sleepily. 

"Yeah, i watched the whole time--it was intense--but you know, i tried not to pay too close attention," he informed. "how was it on your end?" he asked concernedly. 

"It was nice," he replied, yawning. "I had a good nap. you looking forward to your nap?" George's eyes widened. "What?" George rapidly shook his head. "You promised."

"That was before..." he squeaked.

"Before what? did my operation freak you out?" he shook his head, looked at Ringo's big blue eyes, and then nodded. 

"I saw things. things that i didn't want to see, and i know that you didn't feel it, and i know yours is different than mine, but still, i can't help but think that the same thing is going to happen to me soon. i don't think i can take it, Ringo," he explained. "i don't even care if it's a nap or if i get ice cream or what. i'd rather be sick for everyone one of my birthdays for the rest of my life, than go through that." he gestured to Ringo's mouth full of cotton. "I saw knives, Ringo. i can't--i really can't," he continued. 

Ringo sighed and put his hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to know what i remember from these past two hours?"

"What?" George asked, afraid of the answer.

"Nothing. Not a thing. you tell me that there was knives, but i wouldn't be able to tell you that, because it was all this really fast and really deep sleep. the last thing that i remember is you holding my hand. so, please understand that no matter what happens in there, you will still only remember what happens before, and after." George considered that and nodded.

"I guess it's time, then."

back in the hospital, Paul was all ready for surgery. he was in his gown already, with a pint of his blood drained and in a blood lab, and an IV in his arm. he started regretting every action that he took in that past hour--in fact, he started regretting ever thought that he had in the past hour.

"Sorry, John," he whispered to himself, "you aren't worth this," he cried to himself. 

Mal came in just then. he had with him a small gift bag and a folder. "Hi, little soldier," he greeted him. "How're you holding up?" Paul sniffled. 

"It's so horrible. why did i do this to myself?"

"Because you didn't know what you were getting yourself into," Mal inferred. Paul looked at him in realization. "Here," he handed the him the gift bag. Paul opened it and found a small teddy bear. "Found it in the gift shop. thought you might need something to hold right now." Paul squeezed it. "Anyway, i have a ton of paperwork to do. do you happen to know your blood type."

"It's O negative," Paul replied begrudgingly. Mal wrote something in the folder. "Mal, are you going to be here when they take me?"

"Of course, but only if you want me to." Paul nodded. he asked when they'd be here and Paul groaned. 

"Soon--too soon."

"You know, i don't want to say i told you so, but--"

"i know, i know. i was wrong. i was stupid and wrong, and i deserve to get sliced open," he whined into his pillow. Mal tapped him on the shoulder.

"Can you look at me, please?" Paul peered at him. 

"You are not stupid, nor do you deserve to get sliced open. what happened to you is concidence--and a lucky one. if you hadn't begged to get an MRI we might not have found   
this thing in time," Mal pointed out.

"I still did it for stupid, selfish reasons."

"Selfish? you wanted to 'suffer' because you're friends were and you didn't think that was fair. how is that selfish? if anything, you are far away from selfish." Paul tried to smile. he hugged him tightly.

"I'm so glad you're here," he whispered in his ear.

"And if it helps, you're going to be next to John." he gasped and smiled. 

"Really? my Johnny?"

"Your Johnny."

"Wait, won't he be out of surgery soon."

"Paul, he's not going to be out for another two or three hours." Paul looked down, sad.

"And, when will i be...?"

"The same time," Mal answered quickly. "Maybe an hour or so longer. we'll see how it goes, but you will definitely be with him for most of it--if that makes you feel better?" Paul   
smiled again.

"It does," he replied gratefully. Mal held him again, the way that he had in the waiting room. after a while, Paul told him, "i'm still scared."

"It won't hurt."

"i know that--now, i know that--but i'm more concerned with the thing as a whole. like, i know they're going to have to cut a big hole in my tummy, and going to have to do a lot   
of cutting, and i just don't think i can handle that." Mal kissed his head. 

"Just worry about what kind of ice cream you're going to eat afterwards." Paul tried to buy it. "Really," Mal continued, "all the cutting they do won't affect you. not in the way that you think. You're going to be great. i know it." Paul's lip quivered. "Do you need to cry?" Paul tearfully nodded. Mal pulled a tissue out of his pocket and handed it to him. Paul cried into it and then leaned into Mal's shoulder, really crying hard.

a few moments later, a nurse came into the room. "Paul, we're ready for you now." Paul looked up at Mal tearfully.

"You can do it," he whispered to him, "I believe you. i do." Paul nodded and let go of Mal, facing the nurse.

after she got him onto a gurney, she started pulling him out of the room. Mal waved tearfully as she did, and Paul waved back, trying to be strong.

Just as the gurney turned a corner, Brian, George, and Ringo--his face swollen--ran into the hallway.


	34. One is the Loneliest Beatle That There Ever Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last freakout as the last Beatle remains (not like dead or anything but like, the last to get his stuff done).

Just as the gurney turned a corner, Brian, George, and Ringo--his face swollen--ran into the hallway. 

"The reception said something about--" Brian stammered, his face white. "Paul is he...?"

"They just took him," Mal replied, still weepy. 

"Is he okay?" George demanded. 

"He'll be fine," Brian and Mal reassured. they exchanged a knowing look. 

"Yeah, i'm sure they taking care of him," Ringo agreed, his voice muffled because his mouth was full of cotton. 

George looked wearily down the hallway where Paul had been. 

"And, you're in luck, he took your Operating Room, so you'll have to wait till he's done," Brian told George, patting him on the shoulder. George tried to be relieved by this, but he wasn't. he felt sick.

"It's all my fault," he stated softly. 

"George--"

"No, it is. John, Ringo, now Paul. it's all because of me!" he exclaimed. he looked like he was about to cry, but he was mostly bitter. "If i hadn't have had to get my tonsils out, than they would've never had to get surgery. it's all my fault." he was fully angry now.

"i forgive you--"

"But what about John and Paul? Paul is a wreck, you know that. and John...you know how he felt." he shook his head. "And i left him alone," he whispered bitterly. "I was supposed to be there," he continued, shaking his head. "I was supposed to do this with him. to make him feel better, right? because he needed to do this now, and he needed me. and i was stupid and selfish and i ran away."

"For me!" Ringo interjected. "You did it to help me. is that not enough?"

"It wasn't supposed to happen," George answered darkly. "I could've just left it to Paul, and then he wouldn't have--" his voice got caught in his throat. he cleared his throat and continued, "He'd have still been here, if i had at least done what i was supposed to do."

"According to the receptionist, it was a good thing. if Paul hadn't had had that MRI he might not have discovered that ulcer until it was too late. George, don't you realize? you helped him."

"But i still got Ringo and John hurt, and i can't let that go. i can't." he was trembling. "i deserve to be in that O.R. not him. i need to--" he tried running down the hallway, but Mal grabbed him, and held him still.

"Listen, you don't deserve to suffer. do you understand? i know that's what you're thinking and you are wrong," Mal told him boldly. "Everything that happened was because of you and not because of what you chose. you didn't have a choice, and neither did they. accept it." George considered it and sighed in resignation. 

"If anything, i am grateful that all of this happened. to know that my boys caught every alignment before it got too far is a huge relief, and it's because of you, really," Brian told him. George almost smiled at that.

"Besides I needed that, George," Ringo insisted. "My mouth is sore, but at least i'll never have to worry about my wisdom teeth again."

"Much like how you'll never have to worry about your tonsils," Brian pointed out. George groaned. "Now you're back where you started, aren't you?"

"No, i'm doing it. i'm just not happy about it."

"Didn't expect anything else," Brian replied, smirking.  
George was dropped off in a room, was situated again by a nurse, and told they'd be ready for him in two hours--at the most three. he tried not to think about it, but unlike before, he didn't want to put it off any longer. he just wanted to do what he knew was right. what he had been waiting to do for over a month. he wanted this done, and he wanted it done right then.


	35. Where's Paul Gone?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul goes into surgery and John wakes up.

Inside Operating Room Two, Paul lied awake on the operating table. his surgeon prepped his IV, about to put him under. Paul trembled and held back tears, his eyes peering worriedly around the room. a nurse gave him some oxygen to help calm him down. 

"Tell me one thing," he said to her, "Before i go."

"Sure," the nurse replied kindly in response, "What is it?" 

Paul saw passed the nurse to a table filled with sharp gleaming tools. a shudder went up his spine. "Tell me that John is okay. that next door, he's fine and that he has no awareness to the horrors in that room." he took a shaky breath. 

"You're friend is doing fine. he won't have a clue what happened in there, and neither will you." Paul tearfully nodded. 

"Are we ready?" the surgeon asked him sweetly. Paul looked longingly at the wall that separated him and John. he blew a kiss in that direction and then turned back to the surgeon. 

"Make it quick." The surgeon injected something into his IV, and he felt dizzy, the room blurring around him. he tried to focus on something, something to make him feel secure, but he found nothing, nothing except the wall that divided up the two Operating rooms, and thus his best friend and himself. he tried to think about John in a peaceful way, and felt for the first time, almost some assurance that everything was going to be okay. this calm washed over his body, as he thought of his best friend sound asleep, blissfully unaware of the hell around him, and recognized that soon that was going to be him, and he didn't care. his eyes closed. 

George was dropped off in a room, was situated again by a nurse, and told they'd be ready for him in two hours--at the most three. he tried not to think about it, but unlike before, he didn't want to put it off any longer. he just wanted to do what he knew was right. what he had been waiting to do for over a month. he wanted this done, and he wanted it done right then.

Two hours later, in the room next to George, a sleeping John was placed on the bed. Brian snuck into the room a few minutes after, and kissed John's head. he then sat in a chair next to him and took his hand. for another twenty minutes, John slept soundly. and then he woke up.he smiled when he saw him. "Eppy, my dear brother, my love," he greeted sleepily, "is my blood gone?" Brian chuckled.

"I think you mean blood clot, and yes, it's gone. the surgery went exceptionally well, by the way, and you should heal up just fine." he stroked his hair. he tried to be happy, but he was really dreading telling John the truth.

"That's good, that's good," John replied, still sleepy. "How long was i asleep for?" 

"About four hours," he answered. "You slept well?" John nodded. 

"It was a nice sleep."

"See, i told you." there was a pause, then John asked the inevitable.

"Where's Paulie?" he asked worriedly. "I thought he'd be here." Brian sighed and took both of his hands. "Oh no. what is it? is it bad?"

"It's...up to interpretation," he replied carefully. John's eyes widened.

"Brian, what. happened?" he demanded."Paul has an ulcer," he informed.

"Is he just resting or--"

"He's in surgery--don't worry, he's almost out. a doctor came out a little while ago and told me that he is doing fine, okay?" John looked like he was going to cry. "You can cry if you want--" the tears started streaming down John's face and he held onto Brian, sobbing. "Listen to me, he will be just fine. it won't be long before the two of you are together again, like nothing had happened." John looked at him hopefully. "Please, let this go. i don't want you to drive yourself crazy with worry over this."

"But it's Paul," he whispered. "He's just a baby deer. he's just a..." he started crying again. "He's not like me, Brian. he's so delicate. i think they might break him. they might actually break him." Brian held him as he cried over his best mate. 

"According to Mal, he was upset, but he was being very brave," John assured him.

"That was before he got up there. i can take it, but him...there's no way he'd survive if he saw...tools."

"Well, he got in regardless, and the surgeon said he wasn't a problem, so i think he might be stronger than you think." John considered this, and then laughed.

"Oh my God, he actually did this," he laughed, and then he cried. "He actually did this," he laughed, and then he cried. "He actually did this," he continued darker. Brian stroked his hair while John cried himself to sleep.


	36. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George is last and Paul and John finally reunite.

in the room next door, George woke up from a long nap. he was exhausted from the long day, and really just wanted the whole thing to end already. so, when he saw the nurse standing there, gurney ready, he actually smiled.

"It's gonna end?" he asked hopefully.

"It's gonna end," she replied. she pushed him out of the room, where he was met with Ringo in the hallway. 

"Close your eyes!" he yelled back at him. "It's easier if you close your eyes." George closed his eyes, and felt the gurney move underneath him. he eventually heard a door swing open, and he was off the gurney and onto a cold metal table. a nurse laid his arm out flat, and wiped rubbing alcohol on his arm that sent a shiver up his spine.  
he knew that there were tools lined up for him, each with a precise purpose, but he didn't think about them. he didn't think about how in moments, he was going to be completely unconscious, and everything that he hears, feels, etc., is going to be gone, and replaced with a deep lack of consciousness. he tried not to be scared of this, but was having a hard time.

"George," one of the nurses asked, taking him out of his reverie, "Are you ready now?"

he thought about how many times he'd suffered tonsillitis as a child, the amount of birthdays ruined by this illness. he thought about how many concerts had been cancelled or how many he had to miss due to a sore throat or full blown tonsillitis. he thought about how John had lied on this exact table not long before, and how it all happened because of his tonsils. he thought about Paul, a room over, suffering too, all because of George's stupid tonsils. lastly, he thought about Ringo, sweet, kind Ringo, lying there motionless in the dentist chair, as Dr. Riley pried his teeth from his skull. a shudder went up George's spine because of it.  
he finally opened his eyes, saw a few doctors and nurses standing over him. he looked over at the nurse wielding his IV, and just past her was the tray of tools, looking surprisingly similar to the ones he'd seen set up for Ringo. he peeled himself away, closing his eyes again, saying, "I'm ready."

............................

an hour later, Paul was taken into the room beside John. Brian crept into the room, and stroked his hair. he then crept out of the room, and into John's. he shook him awake.

"Do you want to see your baby deer?"

Twenty minutes later, Paul's eyes fluttered open. the first thing that he saw was John who was bravely smiling at him. he was lying next to Paul, attached to an IV and still tired.

"Hello my lovely," he greeted. "You feel better?"

"Much better," he whispered tiredly, shutting his eyes. a few seconds later his shot open and he hugged John. "Johnny , my love, you are here!" he exclaimed, his voice still weak. he started crying again. John wiped away his tears.

"No, i'm okay. really. and so are you. so you have nothing to cry about. really," he reassured. Paul hugged him, but didn't listen to him, and neither did John. they laid like that for a while. "I really need to know. how did you take it?" 

"It was okay, i guess. i was really scared at first, but once the drugs kicked in--i felt fine. what 'bout you?" he still sounded sleepy. 

"It was surprisingly nice--after i was put out of course."

"What about before that?" Paul asked worriedly.

"I was really nervous, but i knew what had to be done, and as scared as i was, nothing was going to shake me enough to get me to turn back at that point," he admitted. "Anyway, i feel so much better. don't you?" Paul nodded.

"It's nice knowing that i'll never worry about surgery again," Paul replied thoughtfully. "Anyway, how's the other two?"

"George is still in?"

"Still?"

"He's only been in there since i've been awake, which hasn't been long, so...yeah, that's not that surprising." Paul looked worried. "He's fine. he's going through what we did."

"That's the problem."

"I think George was prepared enough, don't you think?" Paul nodded. "Especially after he got an extra what? four hours?" he continued bitterly.

"We knew you'd be mad," Paul replied playfully.

"Because, he left me in there alone." he sighed. "I don't blame the kid, though," he added. "Considering my track record." Paul smiled.

"What about Rings?"

"i saw him. he's fine. his mouth is all bloody, though." Paul cringed.

"Let's be thankful we didn't have to do that," Paul suggested.

"Agreed," John agreed. they both chuckled. after a moment, John said, "Do you realize how much i love you?"

"Not as much as i love you."

"Doubt that."

"S'true," Paul insisted. "My Johnny."

"My Paulie," he replied. they stayed in each other's arms for a while.


	37. Lesson Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything wraps up.

a little over an hour later, George emerged from the operating room, and into the room that John was supposed to be in. immediately after, Brian came into Paul's room and called, "It's over." the two brothers grinned, as they meekly made their way next door, dragging their IVs over. Ringo quickly joined them. 

after about a half an hour, George woke up, his eyes only half opening. everyone--Mal and Brian included--stared down at him, grinning.

"It's over," Brian said again. "I can't believe it's actually over."

"You mean?" his voice was almost gone. "S'done?"

"You're all done," Ringo answered, his voice still muffled from the cotton, "Can i say i told you so now?"

"Please don't," Brian warned.

"You did great," Mal added.

"You abandoned me," John pointed out. Brian gave him a warning look. 

"You actually survived!" Paul exclaimed.

"And i'm okay," George replied. 

"Yeah, sweetie, you're okay, we're all okay," John soothed. all four hugged tightly.

"I love you guys," George said weakly.

"Love you too," the others said, their voices muffled.

"Love you boys," Brian added, hugging them.

"Love you," the boys replied. Mal joined in, returning their 'i love you.' 

"We never have to do this again, right?" Paul asked from inside the circle. the other five laughed. "I'm serious," he added. 

after the laughter died down, John continued, "he has a point."

"You really thought it was that bad?" Brian asked concernedly. 

"It wasn't that. it was fine, it's just..."

"Who wants to freak out like that again?" Paul finished.

"Well, you won't. next time--if there is a next time--you'll be more prepared. tell them Ringo."

"It's true. you won't freak out. unless of course you have to have teeth ripped from your head--"

"Yeah, so see, Ringo is right. you won't be afraid, you won't be afraid, and what else?'" They all stared at Brian. "What else?"

"We won't cause a day's worth of trouble in the morning?" John responded.

"We won't cause ourselves to get shots," Paul added. 

"We won't ruin our birthdays?" George replied.

"We won't let you take us to our annual appointments early," Ringo tried.

"No, you were supposed to--never mind. you seem to have learned your lesson, anyway."

"Wait, we were supposed to learn something," John replied suspiciously. 

"Did we?" Paul asked hopefully.

"At this point, i'm just glad you're all safe."

"We're safe?" John questioned.

"Okay, now i know you're safe. if you were still upset, you wouldn't be acting like this."

"Like what?" John asked.

"A swine." the others laughed and John blushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the end, but there will be more Oh My Luck coming soon. Thank you for all of the positive feedback and as always thank you for reading.


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